Alleviation of the Moon
by nrekic.rose
Summary: A Beauty and the Beast remake. Zuriel was sure he was the wiser participant in the relationship he forces Celine into. Little does he know, the little beauty had much to teach him as well.
1. An Untimely Proposal

**Chapter 1**

Celine was beginning to feel that she was not as sane as she'd always thought she was. She stared around at the room she was seated in. It was brightly lit with ivory candles at every corner, but dim enough to make even her homely looking father, William, appear rather handsome. And the silverware was just that- pure silver. And the chandelier above the dining table was almost as grand as that of the king's entry hall. A feat in itself, given that the queen was known for her expensive and exquisite taste.

Yet, Celine felt more nervous than awe-struck. She didn't feel entirely happy being seated in this grand place. According to society, this was the mark of a mad woman. For someone of Celine's low class to not be basking in the radiance of the higher classes of Avilbane she was surrounded by was practically heresy.

When this manor's owner, Lord Colne, had sent a very stately looked invitation a week ago for Celine and her family to join him and his son on this night for dinner, Celine had been a little intrigued. Who would not want to dine in so fine a home? She even had the privilege of donning one of her late mother's gowns. She'd had to take it in a bit at the waist, but everywhere else had fit her perfectly, and she had to admit to herself that she felt rather pretty wearing it.

This was all exciting until Father had pulled her aside earlier today.

"Do you know why we have received this invitation, my dear?" he'd asked her, his brown eyes shining expectantly.

Celine had felt confused. She _had _thought it suspicious that they would be given this opportunity to enter the domain of an upper class family three years after her mother's life had ended. Mother had been the belle of every ball, but with the death of her had come the death of her family's popularity. But Celine had simply hoped that mother was so beautiful as to be remembered after all these years, thus causing her former acquaintances to extend an invite to her family.

And yet… Mother had mentioned more often than not that it was her greatest wish that Celine marry into Roland's family. She had been suspiciously close to Roland's father since before Celine existed, and from the day Celine had been born, mother had told her she must marry Roland. In those days it had not been so silly a notion. Mother had kept her family swimming in riches with the help of the men she escorted. It was not uncommon for the daughter of a courtesan to marry into more riches than her own mother earned. But with the death of Mother came the death of such dreams. Celine had been too busy trying to keep her family afloat to contemplate marrying into money. She'd quite forgotten mother's obsession with her future with Roland.

"No, father. I assume mother's old friends may not have forgotten about us after all?" Celine finally said, not wanting to provoke Father into a glorified speech about how luck had found them at last.

"You are right, in a way." He laughed in genuine glee. Ah, she had failed. The speech was coming. She felt an anxious flush rise to her pale cheeks. "You see, your mother always wanted this. This is what you have been bred for! YOU are the answer to our family's problems, Celine. Roland will be asking for your hand in marriage the night of this dinner. I am sure of it!"

Celine shook her head. She had never even spoken to Roland. Nor had she laid eyes on him. He had been busy as a boy, travelling the country to attend better parties than Avilbane could provide. Father was mistaken.

He was empty-headed, at best. Perhaps that was why Celine loved him so much. Painful and thoughtless as many of his head-of-the-household decisions were, at least they were made out of lack of wisdom, not lack of kindness. Even if their mother had not made it her dying wish that Celine marry Roland, even if their father was not still so madly in love with that same now deceased mother, Celine felt sure he would still at least nudge one of them to marry Roland. He wanted all three of his daughters happy, and though Celine pitied the man because he thought riches were the true equality of happiness, it really was not so uncommon a notion.

It simply wasn't possible anymore though. Not with Celine's family's lack of high social standing. Celine had decided she would go along with this nonetheless. Thanks to mother, she knew how to charm any man. Given that she had the opportunity to try her luck tonight with Roland, she may as well humour father.

Presently, Celine giggled delicately at a joke Roland had just told his guests. She had not actually heard it, but the laughter that resounded around the dining hall cued her to join in, lest she seem rude.

Roland turned out to be handsome enough. He charmed his guests to the highest degree, and his smile was dashing as could be. He certainly _seemed _perfect. But something about him made Celine feel… uneasy. His gaze was too intense, and some of his dinner guests seemed nervous around him, as if he had a cruel intent bubbling below the surface.

He had made a few snide remarks about the few courtesans that were seated around the table. This had been upsetting to Celine. Though she had never known Mother the way most daughters know theirs, she felt protective of her even in death when she heard this man commenting so rudely about her kind.

"Honestly, I wonder what my father was thinking, inviting these whores to my dinner. I have never understood why they are so easily accepted amongst us higher classes. Seducing men for a living…" he whispered to Celine. She supposed this may be his way of making her feel special, as if she was learning a secret of his. Still, it was hardly amusing.

Maybe he did not know that mother had been a courtesan? No, that could not be. Mother had been the best known courtesan in the land. None had dared to look down upon her. Up until this man, that is.

Celine's half sisters, Agnes and Amelie both looked smug as could be. Celine could hear them whispering from the seats next to her. Something about it being about time these stupid people invited them to a party. Agnes mumbled harshly that half these women were hardly as attractive as she in any case. Celine raised an eyebrow at this. Mother had been a silly woman to spoil Agnes and Amelie as much as she had. It was absolutely ridiculous that two girls would behave so pompously.

Father had not helped much, either. He could have stopped the spoiling of his daughters. Instead he had gone along with it, simply because it was his lovely wife's idea and he wanted only to make her happy.

"Ah, Celine, I do hope your, ahh... broth is to your liking. Even so humble a dish is made with only the finest ingredients here at my residence".

Celine was caught off guard at the sound of her host's voice. She had requested that she have some of the servants food instead of the roasted rosemary lamb and creamy vegetable dishes that adorned the table. Her stomach felt too queasy to eat anything, really. She now regretted doing this. The first rule mother had taught her was to hide her feelings at all times.

She fought down her impatience with Roland. He was doing it again; either speaking without thinking or thinking too highly of himself. Surely he would know that, given her family's financial state, which was no secret around the city, that they would nightly dine on the same "humble dish" that the man had just insulted.

Still, he had kindly invited her family to his father's residence. She ought not be rude.

"It's lovely my lord, thank you. I've not tasted food so divine in years". At her remark, Celine heard her father clear his throat in embarrassment. She knew the comment would sting him, but she also knew that Roland rather favoured feeling as if he was the highest man in the room. By stroking his ego like she was doing, she could at least attempt to become Roland's desire.

At least the man had ensured that Celine be seated directly next to him. This was a hopeful sign.

"So Celine, you're eighteen years of age now, are you not?" asked Roland.

"Yes, my lord, I am. And yourself?" Celine leaned a little towards Roland, folding her hands beneath her chin so as to appear very interested in his reply. Her mother had taught her well in the art of conversation, particularly with men. Still, she had been presented with few chances to use the talent with anyone of high social standing until this night. She prayed she was doing well.

" Five and twenty".

"O really? I imagine you will be searching for a wife soon, my lord" she said, vaguely as she could as to not appear too obvious.

"But of course" he replied, obviously liking where the conversation was heading.

"Well then. I envy the lady who catches your eye". Celine smiled a half-smile.

"No need to envy anyone, I assure you". Roland seemed to be hinting that she was the lady that was catching his eye. So Father had been right…

She imagined herself marrying this man. And for all her vast imagination, she couldn't do it.

The dinner dragged on in proper high class fashion. Celine ate only a few bites of dessert, as to refuse it would be rude after already having hardly had dinner, while her sisters ate more than their fill. They were only a little above average in build, but to feast after having bread and vegetables for so long was a luxury indeed. Celine had had to lace their corsets very tight in order to fit them into mother's dresses. Agnes wore a deep shade of green, and looked pretty enough. And Amelie's pink gown did bring a pretty flush to her cheeks.

When dessert had finished, Roland softly ordered one of the servants to prepare some champagne and have it brought to the table. His request was carried out within minutes.

He stood and made a small speech, thanking his guests for attending this dinner, and warning them that tonight's festivities were hardly over.

"The reason for this is, I've a very special intention for tonight, and given that it goes well, and I'm sure it will, we will have much to celebrate". His large audience applauded.

He then turned to Celine, got down on one knee, and said the word's Celine's mother had always dreamed of hearing for her daughter.

"Will you marry me?".

Celine now regretted flirting with him. Perhaps father had always been wrong about this in the first place. Panic rose in her chest. She bid herself to not be selfish. There were nothing so wrong with this man as to say no to him. And this opportunity would never come again. This was not about love, this was about duty. And yet, her reply was..

"I shall have to think-"

Roland, who had taken her hand expectantly in his, squeezed it too tightly and gave her a look that only she would notice and fear.

"….Yes". Her answer was no. But her lips had said yes.

The guests clapped louder than before, the silence that had overtaken the room broken by cheery congratulations. Of course, even if every person in this room disagreed with the match that had just been made, Roland's family's power was higher than most in this room. They had no choice but to fane happiness, if indeed any of them were unhappy about the event that had just taken place.

Celine refused to look at her father or sisters. Instead, as Roland's lips met hers, her mind resounded only one thought. What had she done?


	2. The Ball and the Lie

Chapter 2

The night was chilled and the moon was high. Its silvery light spilled like a sharp whisper into Celine's room, so bright because the moon was at its fullest part of its cycle. A soft breeze drifted through her open window and brought a gold tinged leaf to Celine, where she sat in the upper corner of her bed against the wall, and landed in her lap. She picked it up and spun it between her fingers, hardly noticing what she was doing.

Her mind was filled with more anxiety than she cared to admit to anyone but herself. Stupid, that was what she was. She had just been frightened into an engagement to her fiance simply because he had hurt her hand. How foolish could a female behave. She would now become the victim of abuse from her future husband all for a little extra money for her family?

No, don't be so selfish, she thought to herself. Her family needed this. Perhaps Roland had simply been anxious. Perhaps he had hoped so badly that she would say 'yes' that he had let it get the better of him and thus squeezed her hand to quicken her reply.

No, that could not be the case. She had begun to tell him that she would think about his offer.

Oh! Silly girl, she was! Such a reply would have damaged his reputation. No wonder he had become upset. For such a well bred man to be put in a limbo by a country girl. It was unheard of. Besides, she hardly knew him at all. She should not assume from one harsh squeeze of her fingers that Roland would beat her.

But then… No man, no matter how high in status, had the right to will a woman to marry him with belligerent stares like he had done.

Celine switched back and forth between defending Roland and defending herself, and all the while hated that she and he were on opposing sides in her mind. She felt belittled that he had not even thought to court her for at least a few short weeks before asking for her hand. And deep down she knew this was because doing such a thing would shame him. Properly courting an improper lady would cause nothing but gossip on his end. But a whirlwind engagement to the daughter of the court's still most famous courtesan was romantic and possibly even understood to his fellow men and women.

They had all seen Celine before, when Mother was still alive. She had brought her daughters to every party she attended, always making Celine walk a little in front of Agnes and Amelie. Celine could not, of course, make much conversation with the guests, given that she was not yet eighteen, but this only gave her a flair of mystery and made her more desirable.

What Mother did was not a show of favoritism for Celine, but rather to her sisters. Mother had hoped Celine would catch the eye of her hundreds of prospective future husbands within the court. And she always did.

Celine was to become the family's financial security. Mother had told her every day in a no nonsense manner, that Celine was the most beautiful of her sisters, and thus she was to use her beauty, and all that Mother would teach her, to seduce a wealthy man into marriage with her. She taught her to read and write, to converse with a man as if he was the only man in the world, to smile in such a way as to appear mysterious… Anything that would cause the upper class women to envy and praise her and the men to be drawn to her in an intoxicating way.

All the while, Mother used her earnings to buy everything Anges and Amelie desired. She favoured them greatly, despite their lack of luster and grace. They had no need for those things- that was Celine's burden to bare. She fed them delicacies and coddled them like any loving mother would, and often left Celine with Father.

Father was different from Mother, despite his obsession with her. He treated all his daughters with equality, sometimes even showing slight favour to Celine simply because she looked almost exactly like Mother, only, dare he think it.. more beautiful.

Father had always been like Mother's lost puppy. He had followed her though everything she did, and loved her far deeper than perhaps she did him. Even though Mother had stayed a courtesan long after she married Father, he never knew it. Or perhaps, was in denial. He had been well off when first they married, but with the untimely death of his parents by influenza- the same sickness that later took his wife, his fortune had become all but dust. Mother knew this, but still, she loved her husband, so she secretly escorted high class men in order to restore her family's fortune. No one in court knew, save for the men she escorted. And thus, her family was able to stay high in status, and high in admiration.

With her death, everything Celine and her family had vanished. Mother only earned fine dresses and furniture, and often spent more of Father's money than he really had without thinking of it. No one ever paid her with coin, only lavish _things._

And now, here Celine and her family resided- in this tiny cottage, selling vegetables and fruit from their small bit of land to bakers and florists. It was pure luck that this little home had housed a family of four before they sold it to Celine's family. This meant that there were enough little bedrooms that each sister and Father got his and her own rooms. A blessing, it was. Amelie tended to snore deep into the night- hardly set up for a pleasant night's rest for the rest of the family, had they been forced to share a bedroom.

Chills ran up Celine's spine as, presently, a howl sounded from the forest not far from her home. She gasped, startled. It was blood-curdling, and caused her fears of the future to be temporarily forgotten.

Perhaps God thought it funny to not let her sleep this night. Too much adrenaline pumped through her veins from the urge to run from the sound to let her sleep now.

Wolves were present in the woods, but it was uncommon for them to come so close to human territory. Odd.. Celine reached forward and shut her window, yanking her arms in quickly for fear that some hideous creature stood below. But, alas, there was nothing. She still feared beasts like a child and she was meant to be married soon. A blush rose to her cheeks. How was she to do this?

Cinderella became engaged to her prince within a few days of first laying eyes on him. And they had lived happily ever after.. Celine could do the same.

The small tear that rolled down her cheek contradicted her own half-hearted hopeful thoughts. She wondered if she missed mother at all, and realized she did. Mother, though she had been foolish with money and harsh with her daughter, had been full of advice on practically every feminine matter. She could put Celine's mind at ease, given that she was still alive.

But she was not.

Celine lay down in her bed, realizing she might possibly be exhausted enough for rest now. She kept a wary eye on the window, still curious about the vicious howl that had sounded moments ago. She waited with slightly baited breath for another bone-chilling noise, and shook her head and fell into sleep when it did not come.

* * *

It was Amelie that awoke Celine the next morning. Celine's jade green eyes shot open to the sound of her sister's voice.

"_You _are so spoiled! I would throw you out now, little sister, if I had the power. It is past _noon._ WHY THE HELL ARE YOU STILL SLEEPING." Amelie's black hair was in a small bun at the back of her head. This was strange. She never did her hair unless company was coming, though in their glory days, both she and Agnes would let Mother twist their hair into complicated arrangements for balls and the like.

Stranger still was that she would be shouting at Celine in such a manner. She was not above throwing tantrums, given her cushioned upbringing, but this was clearly uncalled for.

"What is it you need, dear sister?" asked Celine indifferently, hiding her annoyance and batting her eyelashes.

"For starters, your damned head on a pike for not waking earlier and picking the vegetables. It was your turn today.

Anyways, here". Amelie through something at Celine's bed and turned on her heel and stormed out.

Celine rolled her eyes, rubbed them, and sat up. She felt guilty for sleeping so late. Truth be told she had forgotten, given last night's monumental events, that it was her job today to tend to the garden. Though it would be in vane, she would apologize to her sisters later.

She stared around her little chamber as she sat up. A small wooden chair sat in the corner with an equally small table in front of it. Twas her little poetry corner where she passed away the hours when she wasn't busy. To the left was a wardrobe that had once been painted hunter green. Now half the paint had chipped away, leaving the wardrobe an object only to be used for function, if not beauty. It was home to her few dresses.

Celine's bed covers were white and thin. She would have to make a new, thicker blanket now that autumn was upon her.

Surely life in a manor would be better than this… _Could _be better than this. Life wasn't made of jewels, but it certainly could not hurt.

Celine turned her eyes to the parcel lying on the bed that her sister had thrown. That explained why her hair had been done. Company had been over to deliver this. It looked precisely like the invitation Roland had sent her family a week ago. Rubbing her temples in wait of the headache she was sure to have, Celine opened the letter. It was, of course, an invitation. It was addressed to her but was meant for the entire family, and asked them all to kindly join the Colne family at their manor, that they may partake of the celebration to be held there, in honour of Celine and Roland's engagement.

Ahh, yes, there was the headache. If she was not mistaken, Celine thought it was rather thoughtful to inform your fiancee when you are going to through a party that she is to be the centre of attention at, even if you have only known her for a day.

Knowing this was as petty a thought as any, it occurred to her than she didn't have anything to wear. Beautiful as mother's dresses were, they were only at the height of fashion a few years ago. They were barely acceptable at last night's dinner, let alone at a ball in her honour that half the country would surely be at. No need to embarrass her new future husband.

With a small sigh, Celine made her way out of her little bedroom and descended the stairs into the small first floor living area of her home. Perhaps Mother had _something _she could fashion into a more modern gown. All of her dresses were kept in the largest wardrobe in the cottage near the entryway of the home. On her way there Celine passed through the kitchen. The dishes from her sister's breakfast were still sitting in the sink. They had never really fully adjusted to life as their own servant…

Shaking her head, she entered the front living space and headed for the wardrobe. Before she reached it, something gold caught her eye. Turning, Celine saw a ballgown, sparkling like jewels and tossed onto a barely cushioned chair. Intrigued, she drifted towards it, only to be interrupted by Agnes.

"He left that for you". She was leaning against the doorway from the kitchen, her arms folded and sneer in place.

"Who?" asked Celine, too distracted by her sister's anger to comprehend what he meant.

Agnes' eyes flashed. "The messenger who brought you the damned letter, dimwit!" She took a deep breath to calm herself. Celine was so stupid it was practically unbearable. _Nevermind_ that her fiancé did not think to bring any dresses for her and Amelie. It was bad enough being the eldest and probably the last to be married without being disrespected by her sister's lover. She would bet they had been secretly meeting for months. Spoiled brat.

Celine contemplated fixing up two of mother's dresses for her sister. A spark of defiance changed her mind. How could her own flesh and blood behave in such a manner? She knew this had to cause jealousy, and even felt sympathy for her sisters, but they could have spoken up at any time and asked Mother to teach them the art of catching a husband. She sickened at the thought. 'Catching a husband'… like this was a sport and not a love dance.

"Very well" Celine replied, then picked up the gown with care and brushed past her sister and went back to her bedroom. According to the invitation, she was to be at the manor by six o'clock. Which meant, considering the hour long travel to Roland, she had four hours to ready herself. Her hair alone was exhausting to prepare, and her arms required rest every fifteen or so minutes when they became sore from holding them up as she twisted and curled her silky chocolate locks into delicate knots and braids. She was best off getting started sooner rather than later.

About an hour into this process, she heard Agnes and Amelie retire to the back garden to gossip about her. This was an almost weekly routine, and often an amusing one, too. They must exhaust themselves by viewing her in such a hostile manner as they did. She could never recall half the stories they exchanged about her, and when she could, they were, in her memories, quite different from the way they told them.

She wondered how they could be so bored as to gossip like stuffy elders when there were so many things to _do _here. Besides the constant financial worries, Celine found life in the country to be quite pleasant. The birds sang prettier here than in the city. The flowers in the field a few minutes' walk away were sweet smelling and pleasing to any eye. Yet her sisters wanted none of it.

Still, Celine couldn't blame them, really. She was taught to prosper no matter the circumstances. They were taught to rely upon her for strength. Their only fault was the manner in which they chose to draw strength from her: through cruelty. No person could truly be taught to do that. That was their own conscious decision.

Celine stopped gazing out the window and was about to return to her hair when she heard the front door open and slam shut. Father was back. She had only vaguely wondered where the old man had gone, and now felt guilt over it.

"Girls! Quick! Wonderful news! You will _not _believe your ears, I swear it!" His voice rang excitedly through the house, and Agnes and Amelie could be heard running inside to listen in on the news. Celine supposed she should see what all the fuss was about.

Father stared at her as she descended the stairs into the kitchen. The shimmer of her gown reflected in her dark hair, and the ruffles and bows appeared elegant on her where they appeared misplaced on his other two daughters, who were also dressed in a suitable manner for a ball.

"Beautiful" he breathed. When he married her mother, he never imagined that a being could be more divine. Yet, here was his child, lovelier than any other female he had seen before.

Excitement momentarily forgotten, he inquired why his daughters were so fancily dressed.

"There is a ball tonight, father, at Roland's manor. It is in honour of our engagement" Celine explained, blushing at the last sentence and lowering her voice as she said it.

There was a pause as he continued to stare blankly at his daughters, before Father remembered his good fortune.

"Ah! Well, good, good! And now, I have something to tell you girls too.

We've fallen into wealth! I kid you not! We have an aunt, long lost, about a league from here. She's died! Is that not wonderful?!" He had the same tone he had used when telling Celine yesterday that Roland would propose to her. And Celine had the same feeling now that she had felt then. His happiness was her confusion.

"Wait, wait, Father, may I see that?" Her question was almost drowned out by her sisters' squeals.

"We will be rich again! O, heavens, God loves me most afterall. We'll be richer than you, Celine, I am sure of it!". Amelie may as well have stuck her tongue out at Celine for all the immaturity her statement held. Celine rolled her eyes and reached for the letter her Father held in his hand. Amelie and Agnes joined hands and danced around the room. Celine's headache increased as she opened the letter.

It was addressed to Father, and requested his immediate presence at the residence of some Aunt… Fiona, on account of her death. Celine could not recall such a woman, but then Mother had only told her of a few of her relatives. It was not unlikely that they had an aunt none of them knew about.

"I must go at once. At once!", cried Father, still giggling.

"No, Father, please, wait until tomorrow. Night may fall before you have even reached this place. We don't even know where it is. Attend the ball with your daughters tonight and search for this place tomorrow."Celine pleaded gently with him.

"No, it's only three hour's ride from here, you see! Look at the map"cried Father, pointing to the paper in Celine's hand.

On the bottom of the notice was indeed a map. According to it, this Aunt Fiona's abode was but a league from where Colne Manor was. He was right. But so was Celine. It would be nightfall before he got there.

"Please Father, I beg of you, wait until tomorrow" Celine tried again. Tonight's ball was in her honour and he wanted to miss it for a less than pressing matter? And besides, he was not young anymore and she worried for his health if he was to travel so far.

"O do shut up, Celine. You are so selfish" began Agnes. "Just because you are marrying into money does not mean your family still has to live in poverty". Her nose wrinkled in disgust at her younger sister.

"That is not my intentions!" Celine defended herself. However, she could already see that it was useless. Father was stubborn, young or old. Celine sighed in defeat.

"Very well than Father, I wish you a safe journey". She handed back the map to him.

Father whooped, snatched the parcel and rushed to don his cloak. He ran about the house gathering his things while Celine fought back the urge to protest. This was not wise somehow, and she knew it.

She saw that his boots were muddy, though she had cleaned them just the day before, and longed to clean them before he galloped off on his little adventure. She cared for him more like a parent would a child than a daughter would for her father.

Her maternal notions were set aside when Father threw open the front door of the cottage to reveal a coachman stepping down from his carriage.

"Ah! Good afternoon, sir!" Father said to the young man before running to struggle onto his own horse tied to a nearby tree.

The coachman looked bewildered, having planned on taking the man to Colne Manor himself. He wondered why the man would want to ride his filthy horse when Roland had sent so luxurious a means of transport to his family.

Nonetheless, he had to be polite. Besides, the man was pitiful.

"Uh.. sir! Do you require any help mounting your, ah.. steed?" he asked curiously.

"No no boy, I have quite got a handle… on.. this" replied the older man, finally sitting upright, his big belly resting on the saddle. With that, he rode off, looking clumsy in the saddle and eliciting more worry from his youngest daughter.

Just then, Agnes and Amelie bustled out the front door, declaring themselves ready to depart. The coachmen, who had been watching Father disappear leaving a trail of dust, turned to his daughters.

Looking all three up and down, he decided the louder two could not possibly be the future brides. One, obviously the elder, was dressed in a pink gown closely resembling her sister's, bore a striking resemblance to Lord Cromwell, the second wealthiest man in the land who also bore a striking resemblance to a pug. Odd.. He remembered him specifically because he'd spat in his face for spashing mud no his shoes when he walked past him one day.

The coachman's services had not been required last night at Colne Manor, so this was his first time seeing Roland's scandalous pick. Yes, it had to be the dark-haired beauty in the doorway. He stood, mesmerised for a moment by her elven beauty before remembering his manners, and his duty for that matter.

"You must be the fiancée. I congratulate you, my lady, on the fine match" he smiled. "Now please, the carriage awaits".

Celine blinked and cleared her throat. "Thank you sir" she said politely, unsure of what to say as she couldn't agree less that this was a fine match. The coachman opened the carriage door for her and she and her sister's climbed inside, all with mixed feelings about tonight's events.

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* * *

Celine's father raced through the forest that surrounded the little country he knew and loved and had called home since he was a child. According to the fancy little map on the bottom of this letter, he should come across a path….

Now! There it was, just as the handy map said; a dirt path covered by fallen leaves, all bright orange, yellow, and red in colour. He was normally rather useless with finding where he needed to go, but the map was so clear he felt smarter than he had in ages.

Spirits high, he kicked his mount from a trot to a gallop, knowing that he would be coming up on the castle soon, as he had been travelling for a few hours now. Agnes and Amelie would be proud of him, he was sure.

They had always favoured his wife. Yet he had treated all of his daughters equally, unlike she, with her strange dislike of Celine.

Confound it! He could not understand why! Celine was angelic… her skin so milky, her eyes so big, her hair so long and pretty… Why would any mother not be proud of her?

But then what did it matter, really? His wife had been a smart woman. She knew what she was doing at all times. He grinned widely, lost in his own thoughts.

Pretending his wife was looking down upon him was his favourite game. He was sure she too would be proud of him for racing off to collect this money so quickly. No doubt other greedy relatives would be trying to swoop down upon _his _inheritance. O, they would be most disappointed.

Aha! There is was. Father came upon a manor, well hidden by the looming trees around it. Heh. Small thing, it was. He pulled his horse to a walk and shrugged. Maybe this old hag Fiona had put all of her money into savings, and died surrounded by cats like a common spinster. Of course.

However, as he drew closer to the residence and the trees gave way to more view of it, he saw that it was not so very small at all. In fact… the closer he got, the higher he saw the manor… no, castle, stretched upwards into the heavens. It was marvelous.

What luck! The money within these walls must be plenty indeed! He plopped down from his mount and tied the animal's reins to a tree off to the left of the entrance of the castle, excitedly anticipating what lay within.

­­­­­

* * *

Celine felt more nervous tonight than she had at last night's event. This time, there were more high class ladies and men than she could count. The ballroom was full to its maximum capacity, filled with beautiful sparkling gowns and glittering chandeliers.

Despite all this grandeur and beauty, Roland seemed to be more apt to sneer than celebrate. Any act he had put on last night had all but vanished tonight. He looked less handsome now, even with his navy midnight overcoat. Celine was fascinated by it, staring at the gold threaded patterns that weaved over the sleeves to avoid looking her fiancé in the eye.

Still, she felt she was doing at least _fairly _well. Women that Mother had been acquaintances with that Celine had always wished to speak to were there, and were more than happy to make conversation with her. Even if this was simply to flatter Roland due to his family's pattern, they provided interesting enough stories, though Celine only nodded to the gossip. So intriguing these people were, and yet so petty.

The courtesans proved to be the most fun. They teased her about how stuffy Roland tended to be. The comments one of them made on his preferences in bed were hardly appreciated however. Celine had always hoped her husband would have saved himself for her. She was not so naïve as to think that it would certainly happen, but to have her hope crushed was a blow indeed.

The men seemed to stay away from her. Whether she was that undesirable or they were intimidated by Roland, who scarcely left her side, Celine was not certain.

One oddity Celine noticed quite quickly was that Roland seemed to bare a remarkable resemblance to her. He had her same bright green eyes, and his hands were simply a more masculine version of her own. When Celine gasped at the realization, Roland raised an eyebrow to her.

"O what the hell is it? Surely being in the presence of so many admired upper class citizens is not making you faint?" Roland chuckled at his own joke and went to go look for a servant who was serving wine to his guests. He mumbled darkly about them never being around when he wanted a little alcohol and stalked off, giving Celine a chance to breathe.

Her sisters, on the other hand, were having a seemingly marvellous time. They flirted with every good looking man they could find. The men seemed willing enough, too, until they had been in their company for more than a few minutes. At that point Agnes and Amelie would have annoyed the men too far with being what they dubbed as "charming", and the men would scanter away to find a more graceful lady's company. The sisters took no notice and went man-hunting again each time this happened.

Roland returned to Celine not long after he had gone, looking slightly flushed now that he had drunk his wine.

"Ah.." Celine began. She was searching for the right name to call him. Finally, after settling on darling, having decided that Roland may be disrespectful and Lord Colne too formal, she began again. "Darling, I need a bit of fresh air. You do not mind, I hope?" She spoke with the utmost elegance, and hoped this would entrance him long enough to let her go. She was feeling overheated and there was really no need for her to be so readily available for congratulations any longer. The party was already three hours old at least.

"Shut up! The king and queen are coming" hissed Roland, grabbing her wrist with enough force to draw a little pained cry from Celine. They had made their grand entrance hours ago but had had yet to compliment Roland and Celine on such a fine party, as politeness called for.

Celine swallowed and greeted them with a deep curtsy.

"Well now! What have we here? What a lovely creature. Do tell, Roland, why did you keep your courtship with this pretty thing a secret for so long?". So the queen, too, assumed they had been hiding something. It was unfortunate that this was not the case. Even a secret romance would be more acceptable than the two hour dinner and engagement that had taken place.

It was known that the queen was a nosy woman, but given that Celine wanted to know Roland's answer, she was thankful for that flaw for the time being.

"Well" said Roland, rising smoothly. "We all want what we cannot have, do we not? If I had let anyone know that I had made Celine my own, every man in the country would have been trying to steal her from me!" He grinned in a suave manner.

Roland was a very good actor. Celine could admit to that.

The king nodded in acceptance to this answer.

Celine tried to keep her attention on the magisterial conversation that followed, but found herself distracted by her numbing wrist, which Roland still had a vice-like grip upon.

* * *

Father knocked upon the heavy mahogany door at the front of the castle. Almost immediately, the doors swung open. Eerily, he realized this was seemingly of their own accord. He hoped the inheritance included money only, and not this castle, if it was so badly built as to have swinging doors. Useless.

He hesitated for a moment, unsure of whether or not he should enter. It looked rather empty inside.

"Do come in" said a voice. It floated towards him, velvety smooth and masculine deep.

The voice came from the top of the grand staircase directly in front of the entryway.

Father looked around, too distracted by the splendour of this place to seek out the owner of the voice.

Chandeliers dripping with crystals adorned the high ceilings, while tapestries of dark fairytales covered the deep gray stone walls of the enormous room around him. He was beginning to rethink his first assumption about the doors. He could fix those easily if he was to receive ownership of this splendid residence.

As if cued by his thoughts, the doors closed behind him with a slam. He jumped slightly, started, but brushed the feeling off.

"Hello?" he asked the voice.

Footsteps sounded from the top steps of the staircase, and a man came into view. Even so far away it was obvious that he towered above Father. His pale blond hair was pulled into a respectable ponytail at the nape of his neck, which was thick with sinewy muscle. His eyelids drooped in an aristocratic manner, and his eyes, icy blue, bore into his guest.

"You are a fool, you know, to come all this way to collect an amount of money that you are uncertain of, on the night of your precious daughter's engagement ball, when she is soon to marry into more wealth than you can dream of". The man's voice sounded colder than before, enough to keep Father's defence at bay.

"No matter about your stupidity though, old man. I _counted _on it".


	3. The Beauty of the Beast

**A/N- **Thank you for the reviews I have received thus far. They mean oodles

Just for future reference, I am in Australia, and here "color" is spelled "colour" and "center" is "centre". Hopefully those are the only spelling mistakes you guys will see.

On Father's name: I was not going to give him one, at first. But I decided to name him William, as you will see in this chapter. I modified chapter one to show that this is his new name. And I've named th country this story takes place in Avi

On the other site that I have this story posted on, it was brought to my attention that Celine seems dull. Hopefully no one here agrees, but I have to admit she isn't as colourful yet as she will be later. Right now she's in sort of a... well, she's depressed and doesn't know it. She's got a mother that used her, sisters that continue to do so, a Father that could stand to love her more, and a fiance that she hardly knows but can sense isn't kind. She dubs herself a little distressed when really she's just plain sad. And anyone who's been through depression knows that ya tend to lose a little of your personality through it.

But fear not! The beast will draw out her true potential later!

**Chapter 3**

William was entranced by the man descending the stairs before him. If ever there were to be a being to come close to Celine's beauty, it was this man. His skin was only so darkened by the sun as to give him a healthy glow, and his lips were evenly full and perfectly formed, like that of the mythical gods of ancient worlds.

Father fought to find his voice. A man of inhumane allure stood where he expected a simple accountant. "What is your name?" he asked after a spell.

"Zuriel" came the reply. This man was named like a god as well.

And this "Zuriel" was apparently bothered and amused by Father's presence, though the reason was unknown. He had said something just now about Father being foolish... now what was it? Ah, yes, because it was Celine's engagement tonight.

"Are you the accountant?" Father asked.

Zuriel raised a golden eyebrow.

"You are _senile_".

William felt taken aback. First foolish, now senile? But he was innocent! He could hardly see the foolishness in coming here so quickly, even if it meant missing his daughter's ball. He felt no remorse for his decision. This silly, handsome man should be thankful that Father had not kept him waiting! After all, the letter _had _said to come quickly.

As if reading his thoughts, Zuriel began to speak again. "O yes yes, you now feel as if I _demanded_ you here. But I did not. You had the choice to wait a day. Money does not grow legs and walk off. You know very well you have no other relatives that could come and claim the treasure mentioned in the notice I sent to you." His voice dripped with very regal sounding sarcasm. William was beginning to feel inferior.

"But-"

"'But' what, old man? Hmm?" Zuriel interrupted, and waited for William to resume speech again.

William cleared his throat nervously. But nothing. He had no idea how to argue with Zuriel. Only now was he beginning to feel that this was not such a good idea after all, as Zuriel, currently at the bottom of the grand staircase, began to walk towards him in a sinister fashion.

"Why have you come here?" asked Zuriel softly. His broad shoulders swayed slightly as he walked.

The old man hesitated. "Riches?".

Zuriel raised one perfectly arched eyebrow. Well at least Celine's father was honest to others, if not himself. This was truly the only positive character attribute that Zuriel could find in him. How… sad. Pathetically so.

"No. Not for riches. For narcissistic love. You left your own daughter in the clutches of an obvious abuser, had you eyes to see with. And then you raced off to gather _more _money for none other than yourself.

"Tell me, little idiot, did you think of using the money to spoil your other two already spoilt daughters to make the wretches happy, or to make them appreciate your more?"

William was silent.

And Zuriel chilling his very bones.

'Sire.. please, let him keep enough of his sanity to make it back". A womanly voice came out of nowhere. William turned around, startled by the sound but relieved that he was not alone with Zuriel, who held to his hand as if to quiet the voice.

William looked in the direction of Zuriel's silencing command. And…. There was no one there.

William blinked. Madness. He turned frantically, first to the left and then to the right.

No one.

He took a step back and bumped into something soft and fleshy. Ah, a woman, no doubt. The source of the voice!

He turned around to face her. Still, no one was there.

Another voice sounded, masculine this time. "He is beginning to panic, sire. Shall we show him out?"

William's breathing quickened. Where were these blasted voices coming from? Was this a joke? Surely not…

"No" replied Zuriel. "Not until he knows my orders".

To William, whom he had yet to take his eyes off of, he spoke again.

"You will return to your daughter, this very night. You will tell her she must come to me or it will be the death of you". Zuriel's voice was commanding but soft as ever. His order was simple and lacked any ounce of remorse.

His stare bore into William, adding more motivation to carry out his command. He ordered men about like a king, yet for all William knew he was simply wealthy.

Or perhaps the current king was not the true king at all, and Zuriel was the rightful one.

Why else would a man of such power, _mental_ power, be residing in an enormous, unknown castle in the middle of the densest forest known in the kingdom?

But William had no time to think of such things now. He had to go… Zuriel commanded that it be done…

"How will Celine know the way?" he asked. Surely Zuriel did not expect him to accompany his daughter back to this perilous place.

Zuriel snorted. "She is an intelligent girl. She can easily find her own way".

William nodded. As he pivoted on his toes to leave, he bumped into another soft something, and let out a scream as he did so. What was this madness? Voices and bodies that were not really there?! This was not possible.

He had to go!

William ran to the closed doors he had just come through, but Zuriel's voice distracted him. Heturned to look at the man, afraid to stop for anything, and tripped over his own feet in the process.

"One other thing, you lothesome louse". Zuriel watched him fall. The sound of William's breath being knocked out of him upon impact to the stone floor had no effect of Zuriel's mercy-or lack thereof.

He threw three shiny stones at William's feet. They were large, almost half the size of Father's fist. Without looking at them, the old man scrambled to pick them up so that he could be out of the castle all the sooner. He rose unsteadily to his feet and raced to the barely opening entry doors of the castle.

He had to get to Celine. She would save him.

* * *

Celine looked fixedly at the bruise that all but graced her wrist. It had formed fairly quickly, her fair skin darkening to pale, and now dark purple the moment Roland had released her hand.

In hopes of restoring any good opinion of Roland that she once had to the inner workings of her mind, Celine told herself that perhaps he did not realize it when he hurt her like he did. He had a fairly burly physique, after all. He did not know his own strength.

The night was hardly drawing to a close. A few guests were still arriving, which meant she would have to find Roland each time this happened and go greet them with him. She spoke with perfect etiquette and finesse, much to the delight of the lords and ladies that she entertained.

Now used to the subtle creaking of the doors of the front hall creaking to let newcomers inside, the loud thud they made now as they flew open threw the entire ball's populace into silence. The Huisshers shouted after the man who had flung the doors open.

"Stop, you!" yelled one, forgetting that there were so many people watching.

Still, the man ran forth, towards Celine. It took her a moment to realize who it was.

"Father?" she cried, shocked. His cape was torn and his face was scraped and bloodied, seemingly by branches. Why had he been riding so carelessly?

His eyes were what drew her attention, however. They looked crazed.

"Y-y-you must go, Celine!" he cried as he fell to the floor at her feet and grasped at her gown. "Now! I beg you! He will follow me… I know it! I-"

Celine cut him off before he could draw any more attention to himself.

"Hush, Father" she said gently, and helped him up. He was heavy, and it took a great amount of her strength, which was hardly vast, to do so.

"William- what _is _the matter" said Roland harshly, as he smiled at his guests to urge them to continue on with their merry-making.

"Everything is fine, darling. I will return in a moment" said Celine on Father's behalf, not wanting him to be embarrassed. Roland shot her a fiery look, to which Celine smiled at in reply. She gave him a reassuring look and helped her father from the ball room and outside. The Huisshers glared at her as she passed, but she ignored them.

Breathing heavily from lugging her father's weight so far, Celine could hardly breathe as she helped him sit on the front steps of Colne Manor's entrance. The night air was cool and helped her clear her mind enough to listen to Father's maniacal speech.

She beckoned forth the footman of the carriage that had brought she and her sisters here with her finger. He cam forth quickly and sacrificed his cloak that Father may be the warmer. She thanked him quietly, embarrassed that she had no cloak to give, and turned back to her father.

"Tell me what ails you. What is wrong?" she enquired soothingly. She smoothed the short gray hairs from Father's forehead and waited for him to speak.

"The place. With the riches. It lied! He lied! He will kill me, Celine, you must believe me! Go to him!" His sentences, incomplete and frantic, melded into one another. Still, Celine tried her best to make sense of it all.

Father grabbed the neckline of Celine's gown. "Go. To. Him" he commanded.

Celine felt panic rising again. Father had never behaved this way before, and she was terrified of this man her father was telling her she must go to. Images formed of a dark-haired, beastly man that towered above her, ready to take her life if she went to wherever Father was telling her to go to.

She fought to breathe evenly.

Agnes and Amelie were coming now. They screamed for Father, asking if he was alright and pushing Celine away, as if they could provide better comfort for the old man.

"Are you stupid?" demanded Amelie when Father went on speaking in the same manner to her. The comment was directed at Celine. "You look so scared. He is only tired, after all" she scoffed.

A few of the guests were coming their way. They looked concerned.

"My lady! Is your father alright?" asked a young man, hurrying towards her.

Celine, shaken, looked up at him. "I am not sure" she replied honestly.

Father had to be referring to this place he had said he was going to. This Aunt Fiona's…

Celine carefully dug through Father's pant pocket to find the notice and map to the place. Her hands scraped against something very hard. She gasped and pulled out the offending object. It was a gem, and barely fit in the palm of her hand. It shown blood red. A ruby?

Agnes gasped and grabbed the ruby from Celine's hand. Shocked, Celine reached back into Father's pocket and extracted two more jewels. One was a diamond, the other a sapphire. These had to be worth a fortune. Amelie looked up and grabbed those, too. The two sisters were amazed, and Father was, for the moment, forgotten.

Shaking her head in disbelief, Celine searched again for the map. Finding it within seconds, she unfolded and read it carefully again. She saw nothing suspicious or threatening about it.

Still, strange as Father had always been, this behaviour was clearly not an act, and she believed his words, confusing as they were.

By this time the few guests gathered around Father were more sceptical than sympathetic.

"He is raving mad" whispered one. So they had not noticed the jewels.

"Poor girl, Celine is, to live with such a fellow".

Celine ignored the cutting remarks. They were painful, as she loved her father very much. She looked around for his horse, hoping the animal had not run off in the commotion.

She spotted the beast not far off from the line-up of carriages behind Lord Colne's carriage that he had sent to her. Ignoring her sister's demands for knowledge of where she was headed, she mounted the beast, praying Roland would not miss her presence and follow her.

___­­­_____

Zuriel paced through his library, his stress levels affecting him more than he had anticipated they would.

The library had always given him peace. He found rest in knowing his knowledge was ever increasing. Humanity was such a pathetic breed. He prided himself on advancing forth with more zeal than any human could ever imagine. He studied everything. Medicine, literature, mythology, ethics, history, mathematics…

But now, surrounded by his towering bookshelves, he found no solace.

"Sire, please, rest for awhile. This day has been most tiresome, I am sure". It was Amara, his best cook and most motherly servant. Her gray hair was swept up into a delicate bun. A few wrinkles graced the corners of her eyes, but other than this, nothing gave her age away. Her figure, thought plump, was pretty as ever, and her eyes, blue in hue, sparkled with youth.

Zuriel ceased his pacing for a moment.

"Ten years I have prepared for this! No matter how long I lived before I laid eyes on Celine, it has seemed to be an eternity to wait for her to age.". He spoke with passion and began pacing again. He had waited so long. He prayed his plan would work. He saw no other way to get Celine to come to him. He would have waited longer, and devised a more plausible scheme, but Roland's damned untimely proposal had left him with no other choice.

And he had stolen Celine's first kiss…. Zuriel had spent so long protecting those lips, only to have them molested all in one day.

But he would deal with that later. For now, he had nothing to do but wait for his love. He had much to teach her. There was so much she needed to know…

Another feminine voice, younger this time, interrupted his thoughts.

"O do leave him alone, Amara. The ass will settle down in his own time". It was Emily, his feistiest servant. He sighed and stopped his pacing once more.

"Out!" he shouted, and pointed towards the exit of the library.

Emily rolled her eyes. "Bloody beast. Ordering me around after all these years of covering his hide.." Still she followed orders and left, mumbling under her breath. Amara was in tow.

Zuriel raised an eyebrow. He would put Emily back in her place later. She was lucky he found the girl to be amusing, or he would have kicked her out of the castle long ago.

He strode forward and took a seat at the desk in the middle of the large room. His servants footsteps echoed as they left the room and shut the door behind them. The library was three stories high, as were the doors to them. Emily and Amara were only able to open and closed them after years of experience with such heavy tasks.

He stared around, trying again to appreciate the beauty of the library. The ceiling itself was painted with mythical creatures like vampires, fairies, and mermaids. His entire castle was decorated with replicas of such creatures. Because of what he was, he liked to hope that other creatures too existed. It made existing much less lonely of a task.

The bookshelves wound around every wall of the library, even and flowing. Two staircases lead to the second floor of the library, which was open to the rest of it. The second and third floors consisted of nothing but small walkways, which attached to the bookshelves. This rid the library of use for ladders to reach the books on the higher bookshelves.

More than once he had caught the children of his servants playing hide and seek amongst the complicated walkways here.

He knew Celine loved to read. Thus, he knew she would love this library as much as he did. It was mostly designed for her in the first place.

He prayed she would hurry. He had waited so long for this day, even if it was not coming about how he had planned. He would make Celine love him. She would see..


	4. A Tender Beast

**Chapter 4**

Racing through the forest, Celine now understood how Father had become so easily wounded in his race back to the manor. Low hung branches scraped her delicate skin at every turn, no matter how evenly she rode in the middle of the pathway she was taking. She knew that the map made perfectly clear that there was a more oft used, but taking shortcuts would get her to wherever Father had just been much quicker. She found herself imagining being followed, so great was her fright. She feared that there were wolves on her trail and bats above her. The latter happened to be true, and she was thankful they would not hurt her.

Unless they were vampire bats… When animal life sometimes grew scarce in the summer from lack over restraint amongst Avilbane's hunters, vampire bats would retreat to the city's outskirts and feast upon the blood of the peasants there.

Luckily , as the moon had been full just last night, most of the shimmering light it had to offer guided the way. Still, the ambiance of this night was sick with cold, and no amount of equally chilling luminosity could cure it.

She leaned forward and pet her horses neck, thankful that the animal had not been for a run in so long. He was doing well, and seemed not at all afraid, but rather liberated at the freedom of cantering again. Celine kissed his neck and told him he was doing well.

Finally having had enough of the pain of taking this little path, Celine made her way back to the main trail, thought it took more than a few minutes. She felt blood dripping down her temple from a particularly deep cut there. Frantic and still frightened of bats, she wiped the blood away on the back of her hand.

She had not felt this terrified in so long… Father was a silly man, but he was brave. No simple man or woman could petrify him this deeply. Something strange had happened at this place she was racing to, whatever place that might be.

Suddenly she second guessed herself. What if Father had never even made it to this Aunt Fiona's? What if there was something in this forest that had shocked him so?

This new realization made Celine rush forth all the faster towards her goal. She squeezed the horse's sides with her knees and ankles and prayed she would arrive soon, and that her ridiculous sort cuts had not led her astray.

Just as she was beginning to lose hope, she saw it: the manor.

No. The _castle_.

Her eyes widened as she took in the grandeur of it. First, only a few spires were visible. Then, as Celine slowed the horse to a slow walked, the entirety of the building came into view. The moon shone brightly just behind it, granting full sight of every one of the castle's front spires. She brought the horse to a complete halt. The bricks of the castle were a dark purplish gray. That much was clear even with the lack of sunlight. The tallest spire was at least seven stories high. It was a miracle the trees of this forest were tall enough to cover it.

She slid down from the horse and walked him over to the castle's front steps. She tied him near as possible to the door, finding comfort in his company.

Before she could so much as move the gargoyle knocker on the left door, the towering doors to the entrance of the castle opened smoothly.

Celine lowered her hand slowly, afraid that any sudden movements would evoke another part of the castle to move on its own; For there were no Huisshers to have opened the doors.

Eery, this place was, despite its majesty.

Celine balled her small white hands into fists and called inside, unwilling to enter without a proper invitation.

"Hello?" she cried softly.

No one answered.

There was a local fairy tale concerning a little girl and a monstrous wolf, who tried to eat her when she mistook it for her grandmother. She shuddered at the thought of an animal being so clever as to disguise itself so well, and feared there was a creature similar to it hiding within these walls. Waiting for her to enter. Begging her to let it taste her flesh.

Celine was a lover of the night. She felt it was a magical time, as full of mystery as it was of solace.

But the sight of her Father, a man she loved so much, the only head of her household, being so… alarmed… it was more than she hoped to bare.

Fighting back tears that were trying their best to form in her jade eyes, she stepped forth, into the castle.

Nothing came to greet her. She peered behind the doors, to see if there were any bewitched servants ready to pounce on her. There was no such thing. This did nothing to ease her distress, however.

Taking a few more steps forward, Celine immediately regretted the decision. Her doors behind her closed, and the sound they made as the thumped shut seemed to mark her impending doom.

"O God" she whispered to herself. A teardrop slid down her cheek. She was too petrified to wipe it away.

She cursed her uneven breathing and looked around. The entry hall was decked with marble pillars and tapestries tall as the ceiling itself. The pillars were shiny white, and shot with silver and gold alike. And the tapestries, they depicted various creatures, from elves and faeries to dragons and witches. The air itself seemed to glitter with life.

Before her there was a grand staircase, carpeted with a blood red rug. And above, she saw as she carefully looked up, were vaulted ceilings, adorned with crystal chandeliers wide as the average man was long.

Amazed, Celine gathered the courage to draw forth the owner again. "Hello!" she yelled, desperately.

"Hello to you too" said a voice. Celine gasped, startled that she had finally been acknowledged.

Her eyes shot to the top of the stairs, where a man stood where he had surely not been a short moment ago. He began to descend the stairs, and his walk emitted a regal air.

He was a beautiful man, and not at all like the monster Celine was expecting. Surely this was not the man Father claimed wanted her. He was tall, at least a head more so than herself. His eyes were a silver grey, and shone even at this distance. His hair was pale as the moonlight that had guided Celine's path to him.

"If you do not already, in moments you will think me a villain. However, my darling Celine, I hold knowledge of those that you love, and yourself, beyond your wildest dreams. Soon, very soon, you will thank me for this." He spoke with confidence and prestige. His voice was commanding, deep, and soft.

He looked behind her, as if cueing someone do to an aforementioned task. All at once, hands gripped her arms and half dragged her forward, past this dark prince and up the steps behind him. Celine screamed. She looked to her left and to her right and saw no one. Nothing was touching her, and yet this unstoppable force pulled her forth.

The moment the shock of it all subsided, which took but a few moments, Celine parted her dark pink lips and screamed with all the breath she had left in her.

"You cannot do this, my lord! Make it stop! YOU CANNOT DO THIS!" She screamed until her voice became wispy and her words became forced, and still, the man only stared at her, looking lovely and in control.

The invisible hands took her past several hallways and doors. They traveled for so long that Celine eventually silenced herself to whimpers and hiccoughs, hung her head, and let herself be drug along.

The last door at the left end of a particularly beautiful hallway opened, again without any visible assistance. The unseen hands set her softly down on the ground, and left her there. The door closed behind her and Celine, too mentally exhausted to do anything but sob, curled into a ball on the floor and laid there.

Nothing made sense. What spirits resided here that were so apt to haunt her upon the request of that man downstairs? Father.. o Father.. he must have been so afraid.

She damned herself for having let him ever come here. She had the choice to prevent him from going or not, and she had selfishly let him go. Selfish, selfish, selfish.

She whispered the words to herself in a chant, still crying uncontrollably. She hit the carpet a few times with the side of her fist in frustration.

"You cannot keep me here! Please, sir, let me out! Let me go!". She beat softly upon the doo, which was locked.

"Please child, you will make yourself sick". A voice spoke to her. It would have been soothing if it had belonged to a body Celine could see. She saw no one.

"Oh, show yourself, I beg of you" Celine whispered through her tears.

The voice laughed. "O, I wish I could child, now more than ever. I cannot, but I am just as human as you are.. at least, I _hope_ I am". The voice sounded as if it belonged to an older woman, perhaps in her fifties.

Celine covered her mouth and squeezed her eyes shut, hoping to calm herself. She sniffled and blushed when she did so. She was acting like a child.

But who would not, if put in these circumstances?

"Come here child, on the bed" urged the voice softly. The bed covers, silken and plum in colour, sunk a few times as if being patted by a hand.

"What are you?" asked Celine, bewildered.

"Like I said, human. Now come, sit where it is comfortable" replied the invisible woman.

"What is your name?" asked Celine, refusing to move.

"Amara" came the reply.

"Why can I not see you, Amara?". Celine breathed deeply, calming herself the best she could. She felt insane speaking to something that was not there, but she had no choice, and the voice, this Amara, seemed gentle enough.

Amara sighed. "I did not expect you to ask so soon. Clever girl. So many people would still be screaming."

This information did little to comfort Celine, but she kept quiet as she awaited her answer.

"Zuriel is the name of the man downstairs. Ten years ago he made a deal with a witch. She, for a price, agreed to make all of his servants, and any that were to come, invisible, until the day.." Amara paused.

Celine, still unsure of whether she was dreaming a nightmare or not, urged Amara to continue.

"Until the day.. what?".

"Until the day you fell in love with him".

Celine gasped. How absurdly romantic, and how horrifying all at once. She felt her eyebrows knit in worry. This man was not sane. But then neither was she, speaking to invisible people.

She scarcely believed the fantasy she had just been told, but because she had no other information at the moment, she let Amara's words burn into her memory

She had heard of witches and magic, but such things were known to be unreal. Still, it was better than thinking Amara was a ghost.

"Alright" replied Celine. She had nothing else to say. She felt dazed.

She looked around the room she was in. It was a bedroom, and was every bit as luxurious as the little bit of this castle that she had seen thus far. Above the bed, which was in itself big enough for a king, was a canopy. It was pink, and adorned with lace at the bottom, which only just grazed the floor. The bed itself was covered in a multitude of pillows made of velvet and satin.

There was a wardrobe just across from the bed, though getting there would be at least a ten seconds walk due to the vastness of the room. The wardrobe was made of the same dark wood that the rest of the furniture in the bedroom was crafted from. Roses were carved in breath-taking designs around its edges.

She walked forward towards the bed and sat on it, but inches from where she knew Amara to be standing.

Amara took Celine's hand and guided it towards her face. Celine thought for a moment that the woman was going to bite her finger of, but pushed aside the morbid notion. Her fingers met soft flesh, but Celine found this so eery that she could not relax. Amara let go of Celine's hand, so that Celine could continue convincing herself the woman was human without being forced to.

Celine let her fingers travel over Amara's face. She found her lips and pushed against them slightly to ease her mind that there were no fangs hiding behind them. Amara's cheekbones were high and her eyebrows were prettily thing, and Celine imagined she must be a pretty woman.

She felt her hair, which was long and silky as could be but obviously gray. It felt slightly course, as aged hair does.

"Convinced, dear?" asked Amara. Celine swallowed, unsure of what to think. Another tear rolled down her cheek, and Celine knew she was too exhausted to think anymore.

Just this morning she was in her own bed…

"You are too tired. Rest" said Amara authoritatively. It was only because she was half sure that she was dreaming anyway that Celine let herself drift off to sleep. She did not pull back the covers, nor did she undress. Nonetheless, she was asleep within moments.

* * *

Sunlight awoke her the next morning. Celine found that opening her eyes was difficult. Tears, possibly shed through the night, had sealed them shut. She rubbed them open and peered around the room. The sunlight was pouring through three connected windows to the right of the bed. Heavy, royal purple velvet curtains graced the window's edges, and were tied back with silver tassels with perfect precision.

Her heart beat faster for a moment as she remembered last night's events. She had quite forgotten, until she had managed to open her eyes, that she was in a room that was not her own.

More surprising than waking up in a different room than she was used to, was finding herself under the covers she had fallen asleep _on top _of last night. She pulled them back to reveal her own body clothed in a pretty pale green night gown. The fabric it was made of was luxurious on her skin, soft and tantalizing as it was.

Remembering that she could not see the "people", if so they truly were, that resided here, Celine spoke.

"Is anyone here?"

No reply came. She was not sure if this was a relief or more cause for panic. Sighing warily, Celine stepped daintily down from the bed. She hoped that there were no monsters beneath it.

She shook her head. Her nerves must be wholly frazzled from this place if she believed in the terrors she feared when she was a little girl again.

There was a jewel green lace robe laid carefully on the end of the bed. The bed was so large that even at Celine's average female height, her feet had obviously not disturbed the garment as she had slept.

She guessed it was meant for her, but she decided not to don the thing. She felt that it was somehow rude, putting it on without asking.

She looked around for her dress. It was uncomfortable, being in a place with little of her questions answered, and not even having her own clothing on.

But then, she remembered, the dress was from Roland, and was not hers to begin with. She felt slightly frustrated. Besides, the gown was too extravagant to wear so early in the morning.

She wondered if her host-if that was what he was to be called- would be available today to speak with.

There was a bathroom to the right of the wardrobe. Its entryway was a large arch that was made of the same marble as the pillars in the palace's entry hall were made of. The floor, she saw, was a continuing of the same shimmering cold stone.

Awed, Celine stepped into the bathroom. There was a bathroom big enough to fit three of her comfortably in the middle of the room. Ruched curtains, glittering gold, were hanging, strung up, above the tub. There was a golden, tasselled rope hanging from these curtains, ready to pull them up or down for privacy's sake. A luxurious marble sink was located on the far left of the room, and a vanity was just to the right. Celine made her way over to the basin and washed her face, which was surprisingly clean and blood free despite last night's escapade.

She was both shocked and mystified that someone had been able to clean, dress, undress, and move her beneath the covers without waking her last night. Even her hair was now down and cascading down to her hips in a smooth fashion, whereas last night it had been twisted up elaborately for the ball.

She wished to see Roland now, and cursed herself for thinking such a thought. It was just… cruel as the man was.. he was at least slightly familiar. Nothing in this grandiose, fanciful castle was.

Looking in the mirror above the sink, she found that she was satisfactory to face anyone that she may see. Her confidence about her mental strength was not so great, sadly.

She went back through the bathroom archway and quietly opened the only door in the bedroom, which unsurprisingly led to a hallway. She found herself relieved that the handle had actually turned, given the doors locked state prior to this.

She stepped forth carefully, finding that compared to the plush carpeted floor of the bedroom she was just in, the marble floors of this hallway were freezing.

"Hello?" she called, before realizing perhaps this was not a wise thing to do. Stupid girl! Provided she could find her way out, she could escape from this strange place and tend to Father.

She ran then, down three different halls before she knew she was lost. This place was simply too large. She found herself in something of a knight's hall. This was strange. Such things had gone out of fashion a few centuries ago. She found it more fascinating than dated, though. There were at least twenty armour stands, and this hall was darker than the rest she has entered thus far. Wary of anything more bizarre than what she had already encountered, what with being held hostage and finding her father raving like a lunatic, she felt she could handle no more.

She spun around, looking for the right way. It was then that she spotted the robe from the bedroom, floating towards her as if it was draped over two arms. Arms that were not visible.

A scream escaped her lips before Celine could stop it. She backed away slowly, afraid that any sudden movements would cause the thing to attack her. Silly notion, she knew, but given that it was moving on its own, anything seemed currently possible.

"Hush, child! It is only me". The voice was Amara's. It brought a little comfort. Celine still felt out of her mind.

"I laid this out for you last night. Here, put it on. You will catch cold!". The robe was then held out to Celine, ready for her to put her arms into its sleeves. Swallowing hard, Celine followed the order. She saw no reason not to.

"Now then, come along. Breakfast is waiting for you. I grew worried when I did not find you in your bedroom, you know, dear" said Amara. Her voice was lively, as if kidnapping girls was a common routine here. Bewildered, Celine let the woman grab her hand and lead her along. The small burst of energy she had just put into screaming had already sapped her of her strength.

Celine stared at the ground as they walked along, not bothering to take in her surroundings. She had seen enough to know the castle's owner (whom she imagined was the man from last night) was wealthier than the king of Abilvane himself.

After only a minute's walk, an intoxicating aroma enveloped Celine. Startled, she inhaled deeply, and felt entranced at the scent. It was heavenly, like all the sweet spices in the world discovered thus far had suddenly found reason to harmonize. Hints of lavender and sugar were among the smells. The rest was unknown to her.

As they drew nearer to what must be the origin of the fragrance, as it was growing stronger, the presence of other foods became apparent. Stronger, zestier seasonings could be detected.

The double doors that Celine and Amara had been walking towards opened of their own accord. Thankfully, this was not so surprising, as Celine had seen it done already.

Behind the doors was a dining hall. Though grand in size, it was warm and inviting. Light graced the walls opposite the five or so windows that lined the wall to the left. The two chandeliers above the table were, unlike the other chandeliers Celine had seen thus far, made completely of crystal. Though the others had been dripping with the semi-precious stone, their sparkling demeanours were nothing compared to these fixtures, who cast rainbows about the room as the light struck them.

Amara paused to let Celine collect herself, and then pulled her inside the dining hall.

Zuriel was the name of the man standing beside the head of the table. Celine remembered this bit of information from last night, when Amara had told her so.

"Good morning" were Zuriel's first words. He looked dark somehow, even in a room bathed in so much light. His hair was different from last night's pony tail; it was loosely braided today. He wore a silky black coat and breaches, and though under normal circumstances Celine would feel embarrassed that she was underdressed in comparison, she thought nothing of it. Right now, she only wanted to go home, and the plethora of food that laden the table behind Zuriel was suddenly not so interesting now that her captor was in view.

"I want to go home" she said, not replying to his greeting. She had planned for her voice to come out strong. Instead, she practically whispered, and came immediately close to crying again. She covered her mouth to hide herself and turned away from him. She expected him to yell at her for her rudeness. Instead, she felt warm around encircling her waist before she would work up a proper sob.

"Oh, Celine" was all he said, and kissed her cheek.

She was so confused… She could not even push him away. He was her only comfort right now, and she would accept it for the time being.

"I want my Father" she said. "I do not know if he is alright. Please. _Please_. Let me go. I do not understand…. I do not-"

Zuriel cut her off quietly. "Soon you will understand. William-" he spoke the name with spite, which frightened Celine, "is just fine

"Now, I know you are hurting, but you need your strength. You will faint soon if you do not eat. Now go sit".

Celine swallowed the impending tears and did as she was told, hating that she was so apt to follow the orders of these people that she did not know.


	5. A Tempramental Captor

**A/N- **Sorry for the delay. Been busy. A little bit of reviews would be nice though. I've got all these alerts and favorites, but only 8 reviews! I need feedback, sillies :)

**Chapter 5**

"He gathered the idea for the name in the letter from my own name".

Celine stood with her arms above her head as Fiona, her now official chambermaid, pulled a gown over her arms and head.

"Excuse me?" said Celine politely. She had been calm all day, externally, at least, and was determined to remain that way for the remainder of her time here. After this morning's breakfast, she had waited until she was back in her bedroom to break down into helpless sobs. After that, she had resolved to not let this situation get the best of her again. She retrained her emotions, fancying that this was all some cruel joke and she would be home soon enough. Besides, she knew, tears would get her nowhere.

She had remained in her bedchambers for the rest of the day, trying to devise a way to remove herself from this odd situation. Panic overtook peace in turn, and she missed her afternoon meal simply to remain locked away in her rooms trying to convince herself that this was a simple situation and there was no cause for alarm.

Fiona, as this new voice introduced herself as, had come in about an hour ago, possibly sent by Zuriel to keep her company. Presently, she was readying Celine for dinner. Her lips were already painted ruby red, her hair was already pulled back into elegant, tumbling tresses, and now all there was left to do was dawn her gown that she may join her captor for their meal.

Fiona had been chattering nonstop since she had entered Celine's bedchambers. She had explained that the food was so divine because she, and the other servants of the household, had been given many many years to perfect their recipes. This had daunted Celine, for surely the girl (for Celine imagined Fiona was no more than sixteen. She wished she could see her) was not suggesting that the occupants of this household were all so old?

And presently, Fiona was providing her with another strange piece of information.

"The letter from 'Aunt Fiona' about her will. Zuriel came up with the name by using my own. The rest of the silly scheme came from his own mind, however" she said cheerily, as if devising ways to kidnap old men and girls was a normal task in this castle. Celine suddenly felt rather pitiable for having regarded this situation all the day long as a funny one. It was not. Somehow hearing part of the inner workings of her equivocal kidnapper sobered her.

She swallowed hard, Trying to retain her composure. Sick in the head, Zuriel was.

"Milady, are you alright?" asked Fiona suddenly. She was lacing up the back of the gossamer, blood red gown and must have been staring inquisitively at Celine through her reflection in the floor length mirror before them in order to see Celine's facial expression.

Celine closed her eyes for a moment, gathering her courage again. "Yes" she said, opening them again, "I am fine. Thank you".

She stared blankly ahead at the mirror, unable to look the female she was conversing with in the eyes, quite literally.

The entrance door opened suddenly. Or, perhaps, not so suddenly at all. Thus far everything in this place felt sudden, as she was never able to see it coming.

"Dinner is served" came Amara's voice. Celine made no move to show she heard her. It seemed pointless when she could not even pinpoint where Amara was in the room.

"Very well" said Fiona for her, her voice still bright.

Celine heard both the women leave the room, and followed the sound of their voices as they informed her, politely, about tonight's menu. Something about rosemary potatoes and other dishes with additives that she could not even recall having heard of before.

Despite the mouthwatering foods Amara and Fiona spoke of, Celine had yet to receive her appetite back.

She heard one of her hostesses stop, presumably Amara, for Fiona's voice continued to travel on ahead, down the hall.

"What is it, darling?" asked the older woman. Celine felt an arm wrap about her waist, which initially made her jump. She settled after a moment and the two continued walking.

"Nothing" said Celine politely, hiding her many mixed emotions. She felt as if she was of an unsound mind, what with the servants thinking there was no reason at all to worry. She wondered how Amara could ask such a thing, thinking the answer should be obvious.

They arrived at the dining hall, which, instead of shimmering with crystalline rainbows, was cast in romantic shadow, due to the many silver candlesticks that lined the expanse of the dining table. It's double doors were wide open, the intricate art carved into their surface displayed handsomely.

Zuriel sat at the head of the table, just as he had this morning, hands folded behind his back, which was facing Celine. Fiona could still be heard chattering away, though from the sound of it she was now within the dining hall, pulling out Celine's seat for her.

Celine decided she felt oddly relieved to see him. She had not actually _seen _a human for hours now, and she found to be rather daunting. She loved to be around people- provided they were kind company- and Zuriel was actually highly pleasant to be around... captor's tenancies aside.

His pale, silver gold hair was at a low braid at the nape of his neck, and was actually fairly longer; longer than what was common in today's society, at least. It tumbled down to the middle of his back, and unbraided it must have been nearly as long as Celine's own tresses.

He turned slowly, a small, teasing smile on his face. "Good evening, Celine" he said quietly. He seemed to be in the habit of speaking in such a manner. There was no need to speak above much more than a whisper when his very demeanor demanded attention. If he was upset by the fact that Celine was obviously still suffering from anxiety, he did not show it.

Celine bowed her head to acknowledge him, and took her seat on his right hand side. One of the servants scooted her chair in behind her, and then all was quiet, though the sound of breathing by others in the room could still faintly be heard.

Wine was poured into Celine's glass, which was, liek this morning, crystal, but this time in the shape of a wine glass. Half of the materials in this castle must be crystal, Celine realized. Crystal, silk, lace, and exotic woods.

Zuriel looked Celine up and down, lost in thought. She looked every bit as beautiful and delicate as the rose that was pinned in her hair. Her milky skin glowed in the golden candlelight it was bathed in, and her cheeks were flushed pink as ever. He wished he could find a way to calm her, to make her feel at peace. But no, things must be as they are. She would realize this was a good thing soon enough.

Her eyes glistened prettily, shaded by her dark eyelashes, which swept the tops of her cheeks as she looked down nervously. Slowly, her expression changed. Confidence seemed to bubble up within her until she was smiling the same, cheeky smile as Zuriel.

Celine knew this was wrong. Doing what she was about to attempt to do. Her mother had equipped her with all the skills she needed to escape from here, and instead of utilizing them before now, she had wallowed in her room. But no more.

She raised her glass to her mouth and sipped her wine slowly, letting her lips linger against the rim longer than necessary. Her eyes locked on his the entire time she did this, the corner of her mouth tugged up into a tempting half smile.

"The wine is delicious" she said softly. She kept her voice breathy enough to sound sensual without being to obvious. Mother had taught her how to make men's minds revolve around her body without letting them know she was doing it on purpose. Zuriel seemed unmoved by her little display. Still, she pressed forth, not letting her surge of false confidence fail her.

"Indeed it is" said Zuriel fluidly. He stared at his little prisoner, surprised at her boldness. He noted that she was even breathing deeply through her chest instead of her stomach, as to make her breasts rise and fall all the more appealingly. He let his eyes wander there, but did so too quickly for Celine to see. She need not know the affect her little show was having on him.

She began eating then, sliding the fork over her lips and sucking every morsel of food from it's prongs while looking down at her plate, as if she did not notice she was doing it. She looked up at him from heavy lidded eyes and blinked slowly, bewitching smile still in place.

They continued on throughout their entire meal in this fashion. Celine had to work very hard to not let her facaud slip when tasting bits of each new dish presented to her. Everything was so mouthwateringly delectable, it was hard not to gobble it down like a famished child. She wondered how Zuriel managed to stay in good health. But then, she was sure after having years to perfect their recipes, as Fiona claimed they did, the servants knew how to make such meals healthy as well as appetizing.

She dipped her finger into her wine glass and sucked the liquid from her finger while gazing at him enticingly.

Suddenly, he seemed to snap, but not in the way Celine had been hoping for. His hand hit the table top with a force so violent, their silverware shuddered and clanked together. Celine jumped with a small gasp, hand at her now racing heart.

"How dare you play the whore in front of me?!" he cried, and stomped away, down the hall to other unknown chambers. Celine stared after him, devastated. She had certainly not been expecting such a reaction.

"I saw that one coming" said a sarcastic sounding voice from behind her.

"Hush, Emily!" said Amara, and a faint smacking sound could be heard, as if Amara had just hit this "Emily" lightly on the hand.

"Oh, come here love. I understand how you feel" said Amara to Celine. A pair of hands, Amara's, no doubt, slid down Celine's shoulders in a comforting gesture. The older woman was anticipating Celine's sadness before Celine herself felt it.

Sure enough, moments later, Celine began to cry. She had simply not been prepared for his temper, and had expected him to behave quite the opposite of the way he had. And now she felt idiotic, knowing that even the servants saw coming what she did not. Had she really behaved so brazenly? She had only meant to soften him, that he may let her go. But now she realized she had acted manipulatively.

"O God" she whispered into her hands, as she cradled her face in her palms.

"It is alright, love. Shhh" said Amara. Celine tried very hard to draw comfort from the other woman, but she simply could not. She could feel her warmth, hear her voice, but she could not _see _her. She feared she was truly a shallow, hopeless creature if such a thing as sight meant so very much to her. "Forgive him. He grows agitated at times that not even I can fathom".

"I did not... I only.... I should apologize" she whispered, more to herself than to Amara, Emily, or any other countless servants that may be in the room.

She rose from her chair, and turned to face (she hoped) Amara. "Where is he?" she asked, hoping one of them would know.

"Probably in the drawing room. It is the smallest room in the house, as we do not oft have guests. It is rather cozy, thus he prefers to be in there sometimes" explained Fiona, still sounding fairly bubbly.

Celine heard the girl leave the room, and was unsure of what to do now. Seconds later, Fiona's footsteps sounded back in the dining hall.

"I am sorry. I keep forgetting that you cannot see us" she said. "Come on, follow me".

Celine, blushing for the chagrin she could not place, followed Fiona's footsteps. The sound echoed off the hall walls, though various sounds could be heard through out the castle. Dishes being cleaned in the kitchen, which must be off the small door in the back of the dining hall, clinked together, inhabitants could be heard speaking and giggling quietly in rooms that Celine had yet to explore, and large windows could be heard being shut in preparation for another fairly chilly night.

"In here" said Fiona, and a pair of double doors, smaller than the dining hall's, opened before her. She swallowed and stepped tentively inside, afraid that Zuriel might spot her before she spotted him and throw her from the room. He seemed suddenly unpredictable.

Breathing evenly as possible, Celine entered the room and closed the doors behind her with a small click.

She looked around the room, which was lit mostly by a fireplace on the far left side of the room.

Two crisp white couches stood before her, with little tables at the end of each one, for the purpose of placing tea trays on during tea time. Every inch of the walls were the color of absinthe. It was striking. The ruched drapes that covered the many tall windows on the wall directly opposite of where Celine stood were sheer, pale green, and shimmering. Silver tassels hung from the ends of the drapes. Any and all wood in the room, from the tables to the mantle of the fireplace, was pale, ashy white, and did not appear to be painted that way.

She saw Zuriel then, in one of the two oversized, high backed chairs in front of the crackling fireplace. The chair was faced at an angle, making only half his face visible. One hand was resting on the armrest of the chair, which was deep green in color, while his other hand was at his lips, fingertips tracing them as he sat lost in thought.

Celine took a deep breath and spoke. "I believe you can see them, though I cannot, my lord" she said in reference to the other people in the castle. "Are we alone?"

At the sound of her voice Zuriel looked up from the firelight. He smiled softly at the sight of Celine, which greatly confused her. And just moments ago he had been so angry...?

"Yes, we are. Come here" he said patiently.

Celine nodded and did so, stepping carefully for fear that one wrong move may upset him again. O, how stupid she was to have handled tonight like this!

She was standing beside him now, hands folded at her waist in a proper fashion. He reached up and touched her hand tenderly, smile still in place.

"Sit, Celine" he said. Though his words were comanding and free of formal flattery, his tone was sweet.

She sat before him, her dress floating about her with the movement. He waited for the fabric to settle before laughing faintly. He had not expected her to sit on the floor. But it suited her. She seemed to be deflated of all the bravodo she had had earlier tonight, and back to her usual childlike nature.

"O, but you are beautiful" he said to himself of the little delicacy before him.

Celine ignored the comment, unsure of what to make of it. "I want to apologize, my lord. I... I behaved brashly, and for that I am deeply sorry. I falsely hoped that you were like other men, and would let my advances be your undoing and let me go" she explained, voice filled with shame. Odd, it was, that she spoke of the seducer's dance like it was so simple to do. As if her astounding beauty had nothing to do with how easily she affected men, and only her training was to blame.

And she _had _affected him. more than she knew. He could not tell her this, however. She needn't know the full scale of her charm. Perhaps that was why he had lost his temper so easily tonight. No woman had ever done such a thing to him and succeeded, and he found the feeling to be rather helpless. He was her prisoner just as much as she was his, he realized.

"It is I who should apologize. I did not behave much like a gentleman, did I?" he asked rhetorically. Celine shook her head to show that she disagreed, still fully blaming herself for the situation.

"Come here" Zuriel said suddenly, rising. He held out his hand and helped her up into a standing position, and looped her arm through his. He guided her to the curtained archway angled next to the windows of the room. He held the curtain aside for his companion and stepped through with her, onto the balcony it led to. The fragrant smell of roses engulfed them, for the flowers climbed like ivy up and around the entire balcony, winding over its floor and the marble half pillars of the railing.

"I love roses!" she exclaimed happily. She had not seen many since moving from her family's manor all those years ago to move to the cottage she now called home.

"I know you do" said Zuriel seriously. "I know many things about you".

Celine stopped short, confused by Zuriel's comment. "How would you know that, my lord?" she asked with an equally serious tone.

"All in due time" he replied. "All in due time".

Celine raised an eyebrow but did not press the matter further. Tonight had been filled with quite enough drama.

She retired to her chambers soon after, feeling a little more at peace, having been in the presence of a real human for an hour or so. She slept soundly that night, even in her unfamiliar, hated surroundings.


	6. A Bittersweet Consultation

**A/N- **I rewrote this chapter three times I'll have you know. :P Every time inspiration came, a new, and hopefully better, idea would take its place. It was annoying. all well.

Thank you for the reviews. They mean alot and motivate me to keep writing. They also help me pump out chapters faster ;) just saying..

**Chapter 6  
**

Weeks had passed thus far. Celine walked aimlessly throughout the castle halls, searching for the library. She had a mission in mind, but knew she had all day to complete it. She had yet to enter the library, where she guessed Zuriel to be (given his love of knowledge), so she searched for it on her own. Snow had fallen early this year, though winter was still an entire month away. Many of the servants were outside supervising their children, who were wreaking havoc on each other, and so Celine was free today to wander without one of the kind attendants catching her and offering to lead her somewhere.

In the few weeks Celine had been acquainted with Zuriel, she had learned that he was stubborn, hot-tempered, prideful yet humble, sweet, and astoundingly generous, even if only to her and his servants. He explained to her over dinner a fortnight ago that everything in this castle, save for his and the servant's quarters, was designed for her. Celine guessed that the hall she had found on her first day at the chateau, with the knight's armors, was his hall, which led to his chambers. Thus, out of odd respect for her host and kidnapper, she never ventured there again, though it was one of the closest halls to her own bedchambers. She wondered if this had been on purpose.

And yet, with all this knowledge, she still did not fully know her purpose being held here.

Fiona, who had thus far proven herself to be the castle gossip (though Celine felt rude in thinking so) told Celine anything she asked when she asked it. She told her how, when she came to work for Zuriel three years ago, he had been having his servants put the finishing touches on this castle. The whimsical sitting rooms and vast gardens were all for her. Luxury materials had been used to build everything, from the silver wood used for some of the chairs, to the gold-laced marble that covered the majority of the flooring throughout the fortress. All for her..

However, there were some questions that Fiona did not yet know the answer to. Celine needed Zuriel for this reason.

Finally, she came across a colossal hall, its cream colored, vaulted ceilings reflecting the sunlight that spilled through the windows. Seeing as there were windows up either side of the hall, this entire expansion must be its own wing, Celine guessed. There were no paintings or statues, as were typical decoration in the rest of the castle. Instead, only the ceiling high windows and black marble floors served as ornamentation, but it was enough.

Two looming doors towered above Celine as she drew nearer to the end of the hall. Double doors were common in this place, and her bedroom, the kitchens, and a few other fairly informal rooms were the only exceptions. She stared at them, daunted, wondering how she was going to open them. She felt sure the library must reside behind these doors. Zuriel spoke often, over their nightly suppers together, of his passion for intelligence. He studied everything, from what she understood, and only a very vast library could possibly accommodate all he wished to learn. An entire wing dedicated to a library sounded perfectly plausible.

She knocked softly, finding that the wood of the doors were so hard it hurt her knuckles. When so response came, she pulled downwards at the curled, silver handle and pushed. Nothing happened at first, and within moments she was breathless. Then the door budged, and began to slowly creak open. She grunted, and made one last heaving attempt to push the thing. Just as she did so, the door flew open, causing her to topple over herself onto the ground. This was not a feeling she was used to, as, to the best of her knowledge, she was not clumsy, and rarely ever fell.

"Celine!" exclaimed Zuriel. This was the first time she had heard the man exclaim _anything_. He was very calm, even when passionate, at all times. She must have truly surprised him, then.

"I am sorry, my lord!" she said quickly, cheeks burning. Her palms felt bruised from her impact on the floor. Mid-sentence, Zuriel swept her off her feet and set her on a nearby sofa, and began to examine her palms. Celine inhaled the masculine scent of him, and felt strangely safe in his arms

Ever since that night that he had lost his temper with her, Zuriel had been exceedingly careful with her entire being, both mentally, emotionally, and physically, at least the best he knew how. If he really loved her, in Celine's opinion, he would release her to return home, but given the position they were both in, he was perfect.

"Are you hurt?" asked Zuriel, his voice quite calm again. His face was stone as usual, though the memory of his expression moments before caused Celine to giggle.

"I must apologize again, milord" she explained. "It is just that I have never seen you so… stunned before".

Zuriel raised a pale, high-arched eyebrow at her statement. He cleared his throat in dismissal, though he did look a little amused by his hostage.

He looked her up and down, meaning to scan her for evidence of injury, and instead finding himself mesmerized by her beauty. Her hair was piled atop her head in an elegant fashion, and black fur lined her sapphire velvet dress, which was designed to keep her warm as possible on this cold day. Even so, a goodly part of her décolletage was exposed in a sensual manner that she could not possibly be aware of. Her eyes were lined with black pigment as to emphasize them, though the rest of her face was prettily bare.

Celine's flush deepened, as she guessed his scrutiny of her was negative. "I truly am sorry.." she said softly. Zuriel snapped back to attention, and smiled at her easily.

"Hush, darling. You have done nothing wrong. Now tell me, why are you here. And please address me by my actual name". He kissed her hand politely, yet the action caused Celine to shiver in delight. Deranged man or not, Zuriel was more handsome than the man of any girl's dreams. She prayed he did not notice it.

Of course… he would not have ever expected to see her so early in the day. They mostly saw each other only by nightfall, when they would dine together and then wander about the gardens or through the many galleries of the castle. Celine had yet to grow accustomed to the sheer amount of artwork this castle fell home to. Some was dark, some was mysterious, but all of it was mystical and awe-inspiring. There were very few portraits of Zuriel himself, and the few that were present were very, very old looking, as if he had been a boy a very long time ago. This was strange to Celine, as Zuriel looked not a day over twenty-five.

"I… I have a question". Her voice was hesitant, afraid to upset him. Even after all his diligence with her emotions, Celine still had not placed complete trust in this man.

"Mhmm" he said, rising from his place beside her and walking, hands behind his back, towards the desk in the middle of the room. He seemed at ease enough.

Celine took a deep breath. "Why am I here?" she asked. She had not addressed this enigma with him since her first night here. Zuriel did not stop walking, nor did he show that he had heard the question in the first place.

"Please" she pleaded. "I want to know, that I may fulfill your desires and leave". She tried to be submissive as possible, though she knew there were very few rebellious bones in her body to begin with.

Zuriel had known this was coming. He had heard her, more than once, trying to draw this information from castle servants. He was never far from her throughout the day, and knew of everything she did and said. Rhys, his closest companion before Celine, had seemed especially frustrated when Celine had asked him. It was frustration with himself, and not with her, for he knew better than anyone, save Zuriel, why she had to stay here.

Somehow Celine's last sentence prompted Zuriel to answer her this time. Perhaps it was because she was in the frame of mind that led her to believe knowing what she needed to know would cause him to give her leave of this place. No… it was quite the opposite.

"Where to begin" he said, his voice echoing slightly throughout the vast library. Celine took it in for the first time, awe-struck at its grandeur. There were at least three stories of bookcases, each of which had its own little railed pathway that wound around the entirety of them. This defeated the need for ladders, as each shelf was within reach. There had to be dozens of little halls that this created, as some of the bookshelves were against angled walls, thus a bridge was needed to reach them from one side to the other.

"First of all, I believe you need a clear perception of yourself, before I explain everything".

Celine found this odd, as she assumed her perception of herself was perfectly accurate. She hoped he did not, then, find her conceited or unworthy of the many gowns and jewels he had thus far bestowed upon her. Though she should care little for Zuriel's opinion of her, she found that the thought of him thinking less of her than she did of him hurt her heart.

"When I first laid my eyes upon you, you were but an angelic young girl. Your innocence then is outstood only by your innocence now. You see, for a girl your age, and for all you have seen and learned by your mother, you are very far from the common world. You understand very little of it and yet much of it at the same time- a trait usually only children possess.

You were bread for the life of a courtesan from the very beginning. You were eight years old when I first saw you. Your sisters, though both older than you by a few years, lacked the class and sweet demeanor that you had. This intrigued me. Not only did every man in the market place- for that is where we were that fateful day- turn his head and think thoughts of you that no man should think of a girl so young, but even your _father _was stupefied by your loveliness. It is, in my opinion, amongst many others, unnatural for a girl to be so perfect. I understand now that you have a bit of a temper when truly provoked, but other than that, you are graceful, intelligent, wise, sophisticated, elegant, and physically unmatched. I wanted you, Celine, but I refrained from thinking the vile thoughts other men and boys entertained themselves with. One does not have to be a mind-reader to know what they were thinking… "

Celine imagined that if she could see Zuriel's face, it would be filled with disgust. She was silent as he spoke, and though his confession of having seen her so long ago shocked her, she did not utter a word. Zuriel turned to her now, though he was too far across the library for her to read his face clearly.

"I have searched for a lover for many years. More than you can imagine. I did not care that you were but a little girl. I could wait for you to grow older. I needed you, and I came to learn that you needed me too. I saw how many times men tried to steal you away from your mother, determined to ravish you, hide you away until you were of a marriageable age, or sell you off as a whore to slave trades. I kept them off well enough, frightening them away through any means necessary when the opportunity presented itself. But I knew I could not always be with you". All this time Zuriel had been walking back towards Celine. Now, he drew up a chair beside her and took his seat, crossing his legs and folding his hands in his lap in an imperial fashion.

"There is a witch not a league from this castle. I struck a deal with her. I gave her a vile of my blood in exchange for her making my servants invisible to all eyes but mine and theirs. Thus, they were able to watch you at all hours of the day. You have no idea, my love, how many times you have come close to having your virginity ripped from you…" his voice took on a bitter edge. Celine was not sure if he was on the brink of another outburst, or if he was simply angered by these supposed memories.

"My entire household pitched in. Some threw rocks at the men's heads that lingered behind you at balls when you retired outside for fresh air. Others, the males here in particular, tripped your suitors or punched them if they drew too near to you when you were picking flowers in the fields near your home. Some even enjoyed whispering in your possible rapist's ears to make them think they were being haunted by the undead. No one ever spoke of it because they feared others would dub them insane. If they had been smart enough to do so, they would have seen that their stories matched up and something was amiss. But even if they had done so, there is nothing any of them could have done about it." He smirked in a way that would have been offensively full of himself if he were not such a charming thing. Then, he seemed to sober.

"But then Roland, the bastard he is, set his sights upon you. All those years of protecting your virtue, and he stole your first kiss… and became the first man to court you. You do not know true pain until you see so much work crumble before your very eyes… For what he did, Celine, I beg your utmost forgiveness" whispered Zuriel. His voice cracked slightly, and his eyes shone. It was almost feminine, how emotional he had become. Yet… the reason for his zeal justified such emotions.

Celine felt self conscious, as if she were now a sullied woman. "It is I who is sorry, Zuriel". Zuriel stopped at the mention of his name, and it was all he could do to keep from kissing her right then and there to hear her finally say his God-given title. "I could have refused him further than I did. I was just so confused.. So many years of thinking I had never been desirable enough to be courted upon, and then here was this young man, ready right then and there to take me as I was… I was a little flattered" she said honestly, ashamed now.

She was taking everything in stride. Zuriel's words, after Celine's initial consternation had subsided, brought her a fair bit of peace. Knowing she had always been looked out for, knowing why she could not see her cohabitants..

Zuriel shook his head once, exculpating her guilt. There was no need for her to bare the burden of his mistake.

Celine breathed deeply and spoke again. "I still do not understand why I am here… I am eternally grateful for what you have done for me, for your utmost protection… but why can you not now court me properly instead of stealing me away from my beloved family?"

"Because your _family_ should not _be _beloved!" he said, startling her with his alacrity.

Celine was taken aback, and her eyes immediately shone with tears. Had she been wrong to trust his control over his temper so soon? Zuriel, seeing this, calmed himself promptly.

"What do you mean?" she asked, her voice hardly above a whisper. She was offended by his words.

"They use you, Celine. Every one of them. Your mother used you to prepare a financial security for her daughters. Or, at least, she intended to before she fell ill. Your sisters now use you to raise their confidence, to make them feel as though they are a step above the shallow, useless girls that they are. You have no idea the things they say of you, Celine. And your father… he keeps you around only because your face reminds him of his wife's beauty. If it were not for that, he would have sold you away years ago to pay off the debts your mother collected and left for you to pay off".

Celine felt anger rising inside of her.

"How dare you!" she said, rising from her seat and clenching her fists. Her family was all she had.. she would not stand for them being insulted so harshly.

"Ahh.. your one flaw is coming out" he said, but though his words were patronizing, his voice was so tender it calmed her nerves. "Sit, Celine" he murmured authoritatively. "I have not finished my tale".

Celine swallowed and followed his command. "But.. I must admit, you have one other flaw. I daresay the two are intertwined. You are naive, my little beauty. Devastatingly so. You believe that those you love are flawless. They are not".

Celine hung her head in shame, and Zuriel regretted the harshness of his words. He softened his tone to a loving purr and continued.

"Roland is not what he appears to be. Or rather, he is… Have you not noticed how alike the two of you are physically? Granted, you have a beauty that no woman could ever hope to outshine, let alone those of my gender" Celine begged to differ. Zuriel was positively otherworldly, though she did not say so for fear of angering him by interrupting him once more. "but Roland does bare some resemblance to you, would you not agree?"

Celine considered this. She _had _noticed that they both bared the same green eyes and the same high cheekbones, but she had dubbed it a mere coincidence upon seeing it. She wondered what Zuriel was implying.

"He is your half-brother, Celine".

A breath of air sharply escaped Celine's lips as she took this in. At first she thought of protesting his words, but then she realized that he seemed to know more about her life that she herself knew… arguing his point would be in vain.

"How do you know this?" she asked. She looked up at him intensely, her hands shaking in her lap, despite how warm she felt.

"I learned of it through Rhys, my most trust-worthy attendant. He noticed how often Roland and his father seemed to follow you- far more than the usual man obsessed with your beauty. He began to spy on them, and overheard things that you will need to brace yourself for… Your mother was once Lord Colne's lover. Your father begged her to stop her whoring upon their marriage, but she began again not months after they joined in wedlock. I must admit, I pity your father for that. He accepted your little wretches of sisters as his own, and still your mother was unfaithful…

"Lord Colne paid your mother with expensive baubles and trinkets, and in turn she grew to love him in the only way she knew how: shallowly. Soon, she became pregnant with you, and decided to cease their relationship, lest your father find out. I suppose she loved him, too, in her own way, and did not want to hurt him. Lord Colne, spiteful over the thought of losing his beautiful courtesan, made her promise to give your hand in marriage to his little boy- Roland- lest he out their relationship and ruin her. Your mother's beauty was ahead of her time, and he knew that any daughter of hers- with your putrid sisters being an odd exception- would be lovely. Your mother agreed hastily, the opposite of how most mothers would behave. There are limits to how far into the family one can marry another… step-siblings is understandable… But _half_?! You and Roland share the same maternal lineage, and still your mother agreed to this… " His eyes flashed angrily.

"This is why Roland proposed to you so suddenly. In his mind, you were always his to begin with. His father bred him to believe you were his betrothed by right, even though you were not. He did not want to waste precious time courting you like a proper woman when he could have you the moment you came of age

"Your father had to have known, Celine. Any fool could see the resemblance".

Celine looked down at her hands, which she was ringing nervously. She did not want to believe Zuriel.. but she had no choice. She somehow knew that the words he spoke were true.

Her breathing shallow and shaken, she ran from the room. It was all Zuriel could do not to stop her. He had so enjoyed being in her presence… breathing in her luscious scent… taking in her rapturous beauty... even if it _had_ been to break her heart. He squeezed his eyes shut and rested his head in the palm of his hand. He knew he could not chase after her. She would need time to think, and he feared she may reject him if he did.

* * *

That night, the dining hall was deathly quiet. Celine had changed into a blood red gown with flowing sleeves covering another set of tight lace sleeves, which kept her comfortably warm. She fingered the jewels that adorned her neck, thankful again at how much Zuriel had given her, even at the cost of her freedom.

It had taken hours for Celine to calm herself and soak in all that Zuriel had informed her of once she had made it to her chambers earlier than day. By the time Fiona had come in to dress her for dinner, her face, though tear streaked, was peaceful, opposite of the war that raged in her troubled mind. She somehow assumed that Zuriel, with all of his outward strength, would have been able to collect himself in equally ample time and join her here.

The said man was nowhere to be found. She worried that their talk today had caused him to think ill of her. She had been waiting for half an hour already. And somehow she knew that every one of the servants in the room knew something she did not. It was more than she could bare.

She looked up, frustrated, at the moon, which shone full and glorious against the night sky.

"Where is he?" she asked aloud, hoping someone would answer. No answer came, though she could heart at least a dozen attendants breathing.

"What are you not telling me?" she beseeched them desperately. Still no answer came.

Outside, the same bone-chilling howl that had troubled Celine's sleep two fortnight's ago sounded from the forest. Celine gasped quietly and hung her head, wishing she was not so foolishly cowardly.

Even more than this, she wished that Zuriel was near to comfort her out of her fright.


	7. Bonding

**A/N-** This is just a quick update because I promised certain readers than I would have this chapter posted long before today. I know it is short, and that the action that will take place in chapter 8 could easily take place here, but to be honest this was such strangely hard chapter to right I would rather just post the damned thing. Besides, this is actually only a rough draft, and I already intend to rewrite this story when it is finished to make it, well, better.

In other news, a reader from another website told me that the flow of this story is off, and it lacks action. This is something I had not noticed until told so, thus, any advice furthering her comment would be appreciated, as I now agree with it. She also told me that Zuriel seems changed from when I first introduced him. I disagree on that one, considering Zuriel's introduction was when he was cooly pissed, and he has not felt that way since. Either way, opinions on that would be nice too, so I know what to work on :)

**Chapter 7**

Celine could not recall a time when she had fallen prey to a more fitful night. She lay in bed, frustrated that she could not sleep. There was no thunder, no howling wind, no bumps in the night. Nothing that nightmares were made of. But she could not forget that wolf call she had heard only hours before over dinner, which she had eaten very little of. She had only eaten what she had at _all _out of respect for the hard work that had went into preparing supper, though she noticed there was not as much food as normal. Or, at least, was normal for Zuriel's castle.

It was as if the entire staff knew that he would not be present.

The silken covers slid over her skin in a soothing way as she tossed and turned. Still, it did not calm her. She was unused to not seeing Zuriel at night. The routine they had developed took a large part in keeping her sane in this place. And she could not forget all that he had told her.

She was not sure what part was more upsetting.. Her father.. her mother.. Roland… The pain of the betrayal of each person washed over her in turn, relentlessly.

She did not believe Zuriel about her father. She could not. She was not ready to accept it. Father had always loved her. Had always treated her with the utmost care…

Until the night of her engagement ball, that is, when he had put riches before her..

No! She must not be selfish. He was tring to lift the burden of her caring for the family off of her shoulders. That was all.

Mother… How could she have sold off her daughter's heart to a man she did not know if Celine would love? Did she even ever really love Father? Was she protecting her heart or his when she ended the relationship between her and Lord Colne.

Celine's head spun.

Roland's secret was not so painful as it was irksome. To have been watched by him, to have been lusted over by him, all this time, and not have known?! Somehow the fact that Zuriel had done the same thing was more comforting that anything. This man, twisted as he was, had a good heart. For the most part, at the very least. He could have done anything to her as a child, and the passion that he spoke of that he held for her, it was far greater than any she had ever dreamed about… and he had never forced his touch upon her the way Roland had.

It was because he did not just lust after her… He _loved _her. Celine paused for a moment, stunned out of her physical discomfort for the time being. The realization of what was going through her head struck her all at once. Slowly, strangely, the pain of her family's arduous ways melted away.

She was loved? Romantically… truly loved?

Celine sat up in her bed, ignoring the shiver that tried to overtake her body as the chilled air struck her skin. She was loved. She had been loved for years, and had never known it. She felt a deep, sudden sadness fill her to the brim for a moment's time. She had been followed, she had fascinated this beautiful man, and she had never been able to actually experience the feeling of knowing she was looked after. It was bittersweet. She felt as if she had missed out on something bigger than she was.

A small smile graced her lips nonetheless, and she sighed, feeling very silly as she did so. Here she was, learning that her family may or may not be all she always thought that they were, she was trapped in a place that was not her home, and she was _smiling?_

She twirled a lock of her hair thoughtfully, and bit her lip lightly. It did not matter that she had not known before this day that Zuriel had been watching out for her. It mattered simply that he had done so at all.

But had she scared him away with her emotional reaction to all of Zuriel's secrets? Was he hurt? Was that why he had not shown up for dinner? Or was he simply unwilling to see her, viewing her as ungrateful?

Celine slid back down and lay on her bed, the covers tangled around her. This was too many feelings at once. She massaged her temples with long, delicate fingers, and inhaled deeply.

"Amara?" said Celine quietly. She knew the housekeeper was near, most likely right outside her bedroom. Celine had learned that in this castle, she was never alone. Her privacy was not often invaded, the servants knew how to keep their distance. But somehow Zuriel felt as if she may be unsafe in this castle, even with so may people living in it. Amara was not married, as far as Celine knew, and thus took no issue with watching over her the most often.

Her bedroom door opened slowly. Amara had learned as of late to be a little less hasty when moving objects around Celine, fearing she would frighten the child, as she often did.

"Yes, dear?" came Amara's voice.

Celine sighed, feeling very childish. She was like a witch's brew of emotions. She could not tell what new feeling would be thrown into the deadly mixture next.

"Will you… stay with me, tonight, in my bedroom?" she asked cautiously. She closed her eyes against the embarrassment that flooded through her. But somehow she knew that she would not make it through this night without Amara. The woman's presence was calming and maternal, something Celine had little experienced growing up, if at all. Tonight, at least, she needed her.

"Of course, child" said Amara automatically. It was as if she had been expecting this from Celine. Perhaps she knew that Zuriel was going to speak with Celine today about her past.

Ah, no, that could not be. Celine had been the one to seek out Zuriel. No one else could have known that their conversation was going to take place.

But then perhaps Zuriel had spoken to Amara afterwards?

The sound of Amara settling into a silver, tufted chaise in the corner of the room, near the entrance door, distanced Celine from her thoughts. What did it matter? Her closest friend here was now with her, in this room, and now, perhaps, Celine could truly rest.

* * *

The next morning brought sunshine and shimmering light and life to Celine's bedchambers. She awoke rather peacefully, all things considered, and strode over to the chaise to see if Amara was still there. She touched the woman's face lightly and felt that she was. Having successfully not woken her, Celine went into the bathroom and washed her face and cleaned her teethe so that she felt throughly refreshed. By the time she was done, Amara seemed to have risen, for her voice floated to Celine from the bathroom entryway.

"I am going to go sleep for a little while longer, dear, in my bedchambers. Fiona will be in shortly to help you dress for the day".

Amara's words brought guilt to Celine, though she knew that was not the older woman's intent.

"I am truly sorry to have asked that of you last night, Amara. I simply could not sleep.." she explained, feeling very much a child.

"Now, now, you are not to worry. With all the luxeries Zuriel bestows upon his staff, its only natural that we actually work for it. And by this time, I view you as more of a daughter than a charge. So either way you look at it, last night's sacrifice was not a sacrifice at all"

Celine thought this over for a moment. She took comfort in knowing Amara reguarded Celine as highly as she regarded Amara.

"Anyway, dear, I will be by your side at dinner, tonight, as usual". Celine's ears perked up at this, as if trying to detect a lie.

"Are you sure that Zuriel will come?" she asked shyly.

"Whyever not, child!" said Amara, as if such a notion was silly, and then she was gone, her quiet footsteps padding along the carpet on her way out.

As promised, Fiona entered the room moments later, and greeted Celine happily. She wondered if the girl ever had bad days, but did not dwell on the fact, as sadness was not something she wished upon her maidservant.

Fiona chided Celine for not having donned her robe, and slipped the pink, silky thing over Celine's arms. It was embroidered with roses, and Celine knew now that this fact must not be from _Zuriel's_ fondness of the flower, but for his knowledge of Celine's.

The maid led Celine to her vanity and began brushing her hair tenderly while chatting away about some sort of gossip having to do with the newest cook, not that Celine was aware that there were any newfound staff members here at the castle. Celine watched her silver plated hair brush float gently up and down, dragging through her hair. Like seeing her food be served to her, Celine and Fiona's early morning routine was now just that: so routine that Celine was used to it and not disturbed at all by watching her posessions moving about without seen hands to cause them to do so. Besides, she was now able to sense something of an aura in each person here at the castle (or at least those she was most familiar with) and could almost, in a way, sense them coming from quite a ways off. That combined with her fresh knowledge of exactly how and why they all came to be this way, and their carefulness in sudden movements made living here much more tolerable.

Fiona had only just finished stroking Celine's tresses into a high shine when Zuriel entered the room without so much as a knock. Celine looked taken aback that Zuriel would dare enter a lady's chambers without first knocking, or even waiting for her to come out on her own. Fiona, however, seemed perfectly adapted to such behavior, as if it was normal of her master.

"Good morning, milord! She will be ready in just a moment if you will-"

"No no, Fiona, I would like to speak to her now, not later" interrupted Zuriel. His chiseled jaw was set firmly, and his gray eyes looked more icy than not. Celine felt nervous now, feeling that her suspicions were confirmed and he truly was angry at her.

Fiona said nothing and was gone in seconds, shutting the door quietly behind her.

Immediately the façade ended. Zuriel's eyesbrows went from high and prideful to soft and sorry.

"I must apologize, my love, for having not attended dinner last night" he said. His voice was still crisp and deep, giving away none of the emotion that his expression betrayed.

"Have I angered you, my lord?" asked Celine. She was cautious not to use his name as she has yesterday, fearing that her outburst had, perhaps, voided her of that luxery.

"Zuriel" he corrected her, showing that he forgave whatever folly she felt she had committed.

Celine nodded. "Zuriel" she said quietly, twisted a lock of her hair, which shone golden in the sunlight that streamed throught the window behind her. Amara must have opened the curtains while Celine had been washing her face.

"Why did you not come, then, if you were not angry with me?" Celien wondered aloud.

"I had other matters to attend to" he said truthfully, though it seemed to be only a half truth.

Celine's eyebrows knit in confusion. She wondered why he could not have simply told her before he left.

There was a pause in which each of them were lost in thought, unsure of what to say.

"I would never leave you if I had the choice, Celine" he said quietly. Celine was silent, shocked at the intensity of his words. It was a romantic feeling that spread feel her.. a feeling of being truly loved. Before she could fully identify this emotion, Zuriel, mistaking her quiet stance, continued.

"I am not like your father".

Celine's clear green eyes shot up to her companion's silver ones with a flash.

"My father is fine" she said calmly, surprised that Zuriel would bring him up again before her wounds reguarding her father were fully healed.

Zuriel sighed in a way that suggested he knew something she did not. This upset Celine quicker than she could keep up with. Her head spun with the burst of emotion.

"My father is fine" she repeated, voice still calm and pretty.

"No he is not, my angel" replied Zuriel, his passion still evident, though she was now unsure of what the source was: love or.. something else.

"Then let me figure that out on my own time, if you please" said Celine, her guard slipping ever so slightly as her voice shook with annoyance.

Zuriel shook his head. "No" he said simply.

Celine's eyebrows were raised now, in a way that reflected hurt. She was not a child. How dare this man assume she could not care for her own emotions. Granted he seemed to know more about her life than she did, but he had never experienced being _close_ with any of the people he had insulted. Flawed they may be, but so was he…

And then something dawned on Celine.

_"But.. I must admit, you have one other flaw. I daresay the two are intertwined. You are naive, my little beauty. Devastatingly so. You believe that those you love are flawless. They are not."_

She recalled Zuriel's words from the previous day's discussion.

"You are not perfect" she said quietly. Zuriel raised his pale eyebrows, unsure if he had heard her clearly. Why would she be telling him such a thing? He knew all too well how very imperfect he was.

"I know that" he replied aristocratically, none of his internal shock refelcting externally. His broad chest rose in a prideful sort of way.

"What are your flaws?" Celine asked curiously.

Zuriel snorted, though somehow he managed to still play the part of a handsome gentleman as he did so.

"I cannot tell you yet" he replied.

Celine tilted her head to one side, all feelings of anger long vanished. That same warm emotion that she had felt last night, and moments ago, returned to her.

"You, Zuriel, cannot connect with humans as well as you think you can. You are a little prideful as well, and stubborn, I daresay" she said, a smile gracing her pink lips in a way that distracted Zuriel from her words. To kiss those lips…

He snapped back to attention, realizing what his little beauty had said to him. He smiled back, his cuved, full lips looking every bit as tempting as Celine's.

"I think you brought me here not only because you know that I need you. You need me too" she said. She did not taunt him at all, though it would take a fool to not see that her words rang true. She clasped her hands behind her back and watched Zuriel's reaction, hoping she had not gone too far.

Zuriel leaned his head back, observing her in turn. There it was again… She was like a little living doll, beautiful and childlike, but so full of wisdom, naive or not, that sometimes her words were apt to sting. Zuriel had not thought about it that way before. And perhaps that did made him.. prideful.

"Yes" he said after a moment, walking over to take Celine's hand. "Yes, I suppose I do".

He felt bonded with her then, more than he had since she had first arrived here. He never imagined Celine, in all her strange, shy yet bold ways, would ever say something like she just had to him. To adress a man who is not your husband in such a way was unheard of. Not to him, perhaps, but to others in this day and age, it was. Strange little thing.

He really did need her. Of course.. And what a foolish man he must be to not have known this before. For all the riches he could provide for Celine, for all the protection he could pit against the world for her, he could not see into her soul as easily as she could see into his. It was a daunting discovery.

And now he knew, without a doubt, that he had made the right decision when he had chosen his captor. She was perfect in every area that he was not. He wondered if perhaps he needed her even _more_ than she needed him.


	8. A Little Witchery

**A/N- **This chapter hardly has any Celine/Zuriel action going on. For this, I apologize, but its necessary. There will be oodles in the next chapter ;) And considering I wrote all 4000 something words in this chapter in a few hours, I'm pretty sure I can have the next chapter up by tomorrow. Hopefully ya like it. And hopefully it's cheese free.

Enjoy

**Chapter 8**

Roland burst out of the doors of his bedchambers and strode down the glitzy hall before him in a noble and frustrated fashion. He could not wrap his mind around how maddening the events over the past four weeks had been. He had not known that every one of his guards had been absolutely mental. And if he had, he certainly would have prevented his father from hiring the dolts.

He breathed heavily out of anger as he walked. His nostrils flared in and out, and his hair was in a slight disarray, a few of the dark brown strands loose from his pony tail, which rested on the nape of his neck. A few butlers stood up straighter as he passed, and he smirked as they did so. Slacking on the job again... was _no one_ in this land sufficient?!

He brushed through a few halls and large rooms and reached the drawing room, where Celine's father sat, looking out of place in his fancy, velveteen suit.

"William" said Roland, addressing him like a child that had just done something very naughty.

William looked up, having been startled out of admiring the crisp gold and white room around him by the sound of Roland's annoyed tone.

"Oh, hello there Roland. I must say I admire the décor of this room. It is simply-"

"O do shut up, William. I am not here for discussion about the way this damned room is decorated, or to discuss the weather or any other trivial thing you may think of. I need your help finding your daughter".

Roland had rolled his eyes as he had cut the old man off. William was trying to play the part of the aristocrat now. Roland could not stand it. It was disgraceful, how much class William lacked and how much money he used to buy class instead. He had been ever since he had fallen into riches again, shortly after his daughter had gone missing. No one knew precisely how the old man had done it, but rumor has it, he found a few jewels that were worth much more than their weight in gold. He had been well taken care of ever since, showering his spoiled daughters with riches and spending vast amounts of money on hunting parties to search for his favorite daughter…

Presently, William was dressed in a pale blue suit, cream colored ruffles sticking out of his sleeves in a way that was more unkempt than fashionable.

"How should we do that?" asked William, his simple way of speech returning.

Roland sighed, as if the answer should be obvious. "Our obsessions with your daughter will far more easily lead us to her whereabouts than hiring the stupid hunters around here. All of the good hunting dogs and their masters have already been hired by the king, though only God knows what the hell he would want with them." Roland's disgust was evident on his face. The king used the dogs to hunt for food to fill his large belly, when he could be loaning them to Roland so that he could find his Celine…

"Anyway, I propose you join me in searching through the forest for Celine. I know most parts have been searched already, but perhaps you will _somehow_ remember the way to this damned castle you mentioned early. Perhaps the girl is there". It was little known that William had been to the castle where Celine most certainly was being held at. The old kook had mentioned it once or twice, and then, most likely due to the embarrassment of not at all remembering where this supposed castle was, he had shut his mouth about it. It was humiliating for Roland to be known to live in the same vicinity as William now, as he had bought a manor not a fourth of a league away from Colne Manor. William could not possibly be a day over fifty-five, yet he could rarely remember what he had eaten for breakfast every morning, let alone the possible whereabouts of his dearest Celine.

"But I _love_ Celine!" said William. Roland shook his head, astounded by the outburst. What in God's name was William on about now? … Ah yes. The comment about him being obsessed with his daughter probably stung him. All the same, it was perfectly true. It was obvious to anyone who peered close enough that William was a lover of his daughter's beauty and physical likeness to her mother, not a lover of his daughter herself. Roland knew this all too well, as he felt quite the same way.

"Fine fine, you love Celine. Now that that is established, will you please proceed to accept my proposal"?

William nodded, obviously satisfied, and seemed to be thinking over Roland's words, while Roland seethed about the many bothersome traits of the older man before him. After a few moments, William agreed, surprised than no one had thought of the idea before. In truth, Roland had been considering doing this for quite some time, but the thought at being alone with William for extended periods of time had prevented him from proposing the idea until this day. It had been a month already, after all.

"Right then" said Roland, his mouth set in a grim, straight line. "Go prepare whatever you need to prepare, and meet me outside the manor at noon. We will begin searching then".

William nodded, and Roland hoped he knew that he meant Colne Manor, and not William's. Ah well, he would know by noon, if the old man showed up or not. He turned on his heels and walked back to his chambers, bored of William's presence already. He mumbled to a nearby staff member to show William out, and then was gone.

* * *

Agnes' jaw dropped as she listened to her father announce his news to her and her sister. He truly was mad. The gifts he presented to her and Amelie were truly the only things keeping her here. He was dreadful.

He wanted to search for Celine. She has assumed that her little sister was long forgotten by now, given that it had been weeks since Father had paid the local hunters to search for her. But no. There he stood, blubbering on about how this was a splendid opportunity and it was greatly please him to fine his little Celine again.

"If it so pleases you, Daddy" said Amelie loudly, interrupting William purposefully and sighing rudely as he left the dining hall.

"What could Mother have been thinking when she married him, Agnes, honestly?" asked Amelie, brushing a few dark curls out of her face before chomping into a great piece of roast.

"Mystery" replied Agnes. "No matter. He will hardly find Celine at this point anyhow. It has been… what? Four weeks now? She is as good as dead in my opinion". She snorted and then scooped a large chunk of potato onto her spoon.

There was a long silence in which both sisters chewed away, each not caring what the other was thinking. They stared about the fair-sized room about them, happy to be surrounding by such grandeur again. This manor was a fair bit bigger than the home they lived in before they moved to that damned cottage.

A brass candelabra grace the middle of the mahogany table, though having its candles lit at this time of day was unnecessary. Sunlight fell into the room from all sides through the windows in each wall, and the cushioned chairs that the sisters sat on were soft and brightly colored, and much more comfortable than the little wooden kitchen chairs from the cottage. Yes... luck was theirs once again.

The dresses they had gained as of late were the most excited. All different shades, from pastels to deeper, richer tones filled their closets. Ruffles in every color imaginable, bows, jewels, anything they wants was theirs. This was why they put up with Father's ramblings about their sister. It was worth it in the end.

Their thoughts were as one until Amelie spoke again.

"Do you think she is alright?" she asked suddenly. Her eyes were wide as she asked the question, as if this were a thought she had never before considered.

Agnes paused, spoon near her lips, and turned slowly to Amelie.

"Are you stupid?" she asked finally, and offering no further explanation for her reply, she went back to eating, shaking her head and muttering negatively. Amelie looked up for a moment, contemplating this comment, and then shrugged and went back to her plate, Celine long forgotten. After all, the girl was truly of no benefit to them anymore, was she?

* * *

The hunt for Celine began promptly at noon. William had indeed shown up when he said he would, and at the right manor, thanks be to whatever God was watching over them, if there was one at all. Roland already had his horse prepared, as well as a mount for William. The man was strangely attached to his own, older horse, and Roland knew that the beast could not travel nearly as fast as any of his own, more sufficient horses could. He had one of his stable boys heaved William up onto the gray mount, and the two headed for the forest.

William prattled on at first about different parties he had been invited to since becoming one of the upper classes once more. After a sufficient amount of grunts and groans from Roland, due to his annoyance at William's voice, the old man finally stopped, and the two travelled forth in silence.

Roland was not sure how to go about this, precisely. He did know that there was an old witch in the forest. He had heard a pair of village maidens speaking of it a week ago when he had gone to the market to hire yet another set of hunters. They had talked of her in hushed voices, as if they held her in so high a reverence as to speak very carefully about her around others. He had disregarded them until now because he had guessed them to be practicers of the dark arts, and had not the time for their silly disillusions. But now, he was running out of places to turn to, and so it was to the witch's hut that he now headed, William in tow.

He remembered the directions vaguely. He had heard one of the girls mention a forest clearing and a few other details about the whereabouts of the witch. Other than that, he was mostly following his instincts to find her. He was not sure why he expected this to help him find Celine, especially since William was proving to be absolutely no help at all, but desperation for his lust-inspiring future bride made magic seem like not such a strange way of causing her disappearance.

Hours later, shivering and worse for wear, thought Roland would never admit it, they happened upon a little cottage, deeper into the forest the Roland had anticipated.

"Finally" he mumbled to himself, somehow knowing that this was the place he sought. He dismounted, and told William, like a father to a child, to wait outside. William did not protest, most likely due to the strange feeling the place gave him; he would rather not enter it anyways.

Roland knocked on the door, and a crackly woman's voice told him to come in. He raised an eyebrow, feeling as if his governess had read him too many fairytales as a youth. He had always known it was a bad idea… He felt that this entire scenario was all too cliché somehow.

He kicked the door open with the toe of his boot, and looked around for a moment before stepping inside. The cottage was hot, and a fireplace, its flames low and somehow purple-tinted in color, was the source of the heat. His mouth twitched, and he longed to enter the cottage quickly as possible. He felt no remorse for leaving William out in the cold. He ducked under the doorway and stepped into the blazing heat of the hut.

The reason for the low doorway was revealed in but a moment's time. The woman- a witch, Roland assumed was short. He could tell even from her sitting position. She barely reached the table top in front of her.

"O dear Lord" he said softly to himself. This was absurd. What had he been thinking? Coming so far and assuming that somehow this woman could help him find his fiancée. It was preposterous.

The old woman looked up at him, dark eyes shining from the firelight. The cottage was dark, as its windows were closed, but the light source was enough for Roland to tell the looks of the woman. She was no more than five feet in stature, and her hair, more silver than red, fell to her waist in tangled tresses. Her face was wrinkled and leathery, and her nose was crooked with age, but still it was not so hard to tell that she must have been, at one point in time, pretty. He thought so, that is, until the old crone smiled. Her lips parted to reveal rotted teethe, and Roland stepped back for a moment, disturbed at her imperfections.

The smell of the cottage calmed him, though. Minty, it was, and the air smelled of herbs he could not find a name for.

"May I help you" cooed the old woman, polite as any common village merchant. She rose from her seat, setting down a handful of broken animal bones. Or, at least, Roland _assumed_ they were animal bones. Ah, then, she certainly was the witch he had at first taken her for. He had heard, long ago, about some ancient practice of foretelling the future or some such madness through the divination of bone throwing. He sighed and decided to answer her.

"My fiancée is missing. I believe you may be able to assist me in finding her." He spoke curtly, though this did not seem to bother the woman much.

"I know" she said, much to Roland's annoyance.

"Very nice" he said, mocking her subtly, and stepped closer to her to show that her mystic ways did not frighten him at all.

"Now, can you help me or not?"

The witch nodded slowly, creepy smile still in place. "I have many maps, my child, many maps. They can lead you anywhere you wish. I only have to tell them to do so" she said proudly. Roland shook his head skeptically.

"I very much doubt that" he replied.

"Ooooh, do you now? Come here" she instructed. She spoke slowly, as if to force Roland to listen very, very closely to every word she spoke. She beckoned him forth with a gnarled finger, and turned her back to him, knowing he would follow her to the corner of the room.

In the said corner was a series of shelves, filled with curled, yellowing scrolls. The old woman picked one up and held it carefully with two hands. She whispered something to the paper, is if it was actually listening, and made a move to hand it to Roland.

He reached for it quickly, rudely.

She tsked him. "I think not. My payment…" she said coyly. Roland stared her down before reaching into his coat pocket and handing her a dark green sack of heavy coins. She dropped the scroll into his waiting hands and began to count the money in the pouch.

Assuming their strange little meeting was over, Roland began to walk back towards the exit of the cottage.

"Wait!" said the witch. Roland balled his hand into a fist and hit the side of the doorway in annoyance.

"What?!" he replied impatiently.

The witch regarded him for a moment, looking not at all insulted that he was so obviously bothered by her presence. He was in _her _home, after all.

"She is being held by a beast of a man, my lord…. I do suggest you take one other thing… It will help you kill him. Without it, you will never get your little bride back". Her grin widened as she spoke, as if she had been waiting a long time for this moment.

Roland was about to ignore her proposition when something about the witch's eyes changed his mind…. She was deadly serious. He could tell somehow.

"Very well then".

The woman turned to her right and pulled a black vile from one of her many shelves. Liquid sloshed around inside of it, making Roland uneasy. The damned hag had better not poison him…

"Why would I want to poison you? If I wanted your money that badly, I would cast a spell on you and take it myself, here and now" said the crone smoothly. Roland's eyes widened, his shock evident. Was she a mind reader?

She handed the large glass vile to Roland and ducked back into the shadows until Roland could no longer see her. He observed the potion for a moment and then began, once again, to return to the outside world.

"My payment!" came the woman's voice from the shadows. Roland sneered and tossed another few gold coins on the floor in the direction of her voice, knowing it would be more than enough payment.

The chuckle that sounded from the shadows told him it was enough, and he hastily exited the hut.

"Disturbing old hag" he said to himself. The sound of his voice alerted William.

"Well?" said the old man, leaning forward in his saddle. Roland's own mount pawed the ground nervously.

Roland ignored William and unrolled the scroll he had just purchased. It was indeed a map, and led him from his current location to something called... Zuriel's castle? Roland had never heard of such a name, if indeed a name it be. Ah, well, it mattered not. He felt as if he was growing closer to his goal now. That was all that mattered…

"Come, William, let us return to town. Our business is finished here". Roland would rather not escort Celine's father back to Avilbane, but he knew that William would somehow find a way to become lost if he did not. The man had no sense of direction. Roland assumed Celine had inherited this flaw, and that was how she had ended up in the hands of this… Zuriel, to begin with.

* * *

That night Roland returned to the hut. It had taken him nearly a third of the time to reach here as it had initially taken him earlier today. He wished that the map gave him directions from his own home to Zuriel's castle, and not the witch's. Nonetheless, he was, begrudgingly, thankful for what he got.

He set out in the direction that the map told him to, wishing that it was earlier in the day than the present hour. Dusk had fallen long ago, and the moon was but a sliver of light above. Even if it were brighter than it was, the overhead trees would have muted it's brilliance.

There were no paths to guide his way, only the maps directions. He was beginning to lose hope, unsure of whether he was travelling north, or east, when he found it: the castle. If a castle it could be called.

It was enormous. Surely the sight of its magnitude would disgrace the king if he were to ever happen upon this structure. Its tallest spire must have been twice the height of the king's own chateau.

Roland slowed his horse to a stop and slid from the saddle. At first he felt fairly unsafe doing this, given that it was so late in the night, he was in unfamiliar territory, and the witch's warning of the beast that held Celine, which was beginning to feel more and more accurate due to the oddities of this entire situation. Still, he was a man through and through, and he would need to sneak about the castle to find an entrance and seek out Celine. He obviously could not do so on his horse's back. He tied the animal to a tree branch and set forth to the gate that surrounded the back half of the castle.

The gate itself was twice as tall as Roland. It was black, wrought iron, and twisted about at the tops, in curls that reflected the sophistication that was surely hidden on the other side of the walls, within the castle itself.

Roland began to climb the nearest wall, with only a second's hesitation, in which he assessed the quickest way to the top. He lodged his boots between two of the gate's bars and heaved himself up, over and over, little by little, until he reached the top. Once there he flipped himself over the edge and dropped down to the other side. He landed, at first, on his feet, but then momentarily lost his balance and fell to the ground. He caught himself before he hit the soil and crouched down, searching for any signs of late night wanderers in the gardens before him.

Seeing nothing, he crawled slowly forward until he was sure it was safe to walk upright. The smell of roses overwhelmed him, and he found himself waved his hand in front of his face to rid his nose of the smell. He quite disliked it. What the hell kind of a man would surround himself with such feminine plantation? Colne manor was home to few flowers, and it was mostly trees trimmed to perfection and topiary bushes that surrounded it. Not this…

It also struck him a strange that a garden such as this should be so vast and lively, given this autumn's incredibly early and cold temperatures. Every rose petal that Roland could see, in the little light provided for him, was bright, varying in shades of red, pink, and even blues and purples. Odd..

Many of the castle's chandelier's and standing candelabras must still have been lit, for most of the rooms glowed with life from within. Hardly discouraged, but still cautious, Roland looked for the nearest way in. A knife was lodged in his boot, and pressed against his ankle uncomfortably. He needed nothing more to defeat whomever it was that was holding Celine captive. He was skilled in every kind of battle necessary, and had no doubt that he could defeat this man. Besides, the vile from the witch was also hidden within his pocket. He would resort to that if at all necessary- not that it would be.

Vines thick as his arm climbed up much of the castle walls. Roland saw that a good bit of it led to a half circle of gray stone above him. It could be nothing but a balcony. He climbed the vines, which were also littered with roses, and slid over the half wall onto the marble floor that covered the top of the balcony.

Voices sounded softly from within the room off the balcony. Heavy curtains cut off his view of the people within, but he recognized the more feminine of the pair: Celine.

His heart stopped for a moment, as adrenaline took over. He had dreamed of the little wretch's voice for so long now… It was so sweet, so gentle, so _begging_ to be tainted.

Roland wanted to dash into the room and take Celine with him then, but he stopped himself. He could not be seen yet, not until he saw his opponent. He had to be prepared. Very quietly, he crawled over to the curtains and parted them gently. This gave him full view to the room within: a drawing room, by the looks of it. It was shimmering in various places, due to the crystal and marble décor. Odd… for the man that sat next to Celine was surely the owner of this place. He was regal enough for the title of Zuriel. Yet, he did not seem at all to fit into the feminine, magical feel of this place. He was darker than all of this, somehow… His jaw was masculine, his nose straight, and his chest broader than Roland's by half, at least. His stormy eyes were locked onto Celine's like a ravenous predator. Disgusting.

The pale-haired male stroked Celine's face in a way that could almost, in Roland's eyes, be considered loving. But it could not be love that Zuriel was feeling… he was too overpowering, too intimidating, to be capable of an emotion such as love. Celine leaned into the beautiful monster's hand with a sigh, and the very sound made Roland sick to his stomach. He should never have to bear witness to such a display. That sigh, that infatuated look on her face, it was meant for _him. _Celine was promised to _him. _ How dare the man before him take Celine from him...? Celine was not Zuriel's, she was Roland's.

They had been reading together, apparently, for a heavy book dropped from Celine's lap to the ground, due to Celine's emotion-inspired carelessness. She gasped in surprise and giggled like a proper whore, and leaned forward to pick it up.

Even a man of Roland's pride would know he could not take this man down. Zuriel was larger than him: both in height and in mass. He was well-built, maddeningly so, and Roland knew now he may need the potion the witch had given him.

Reminded of the vile, he pulled it out and uncorked it, curious as to the contents within. Inhaling sharply, he fought back the bile that filled his mouth. It smelled of blood! He had been carrying blood this entire time!

Roland replaced the vile's cork and put it back in his pocket. He was unsure of what to think now. He did not know if he had fallen prey to trickery, or if this was a special kind of concoction that would do all the witch said it would.

Before he could contemplate anything else, a woman's voice- and not Celine's- sounded but feet from where Roland kneeled.

"Milord!" It screamed, though Roland could not place the source.

Everything happened very quickly then. This "Zuriel" was up before Roland could so much as blink, and, without seeing any alternative, Roland leapt over the side of the balcony, terrified of being caught so off guard in such a situation. He needed time to think before he fought this man. Groaning in pain at the impact of the fall, Roland pushed himself up from the bushes he had landed in and ran at an alarming pace for the gates. He was up and over them before anyone from within the castle could guess his whereabouts, and he was on his horse and gone before anyone could think to chase him.


	9. A Touch of Romance

**A/N-**Because I'm such a romantic, I tend to love cheesy moments. I'm doing my absolute best to keep this story cheese-free as possible. Hopefully this chapter is alright. :P

And now I think I need a lil break. lol. I'll update in a few days.

**Chapter 9**

A feeling of total peace: that was what awoke Celine the morning after her and Zuriel's confrontation. They had spent the rest of the day together for the first time, never parting unless necessary. Celine had even neglected to change into a more elegant gown for that night's dinner, and she could have sworn she had heard a goodly portion of the staff giggling excitedly, including the men, much to Celine's surprise.

She prayed that today would be much the same. She wondered already how she had managed to spend such a large portion of her days here apart from Zuriel. His presence, overpowering as it was, was soothing. She felt like more of a woman when she was around him, more than she ever had before. She found this realization to be beyond pleasant. It was extraordinary.

Fiona came in to dress her just as Celine rose.

"Good morning!" said Celine cheerily, for once matching Fiona's excited manner of speech.

"Good morning to you too, milady!" said Fiona, her pitch even brighter than Celine's. Ah well, at least she had come _close_ being as cheery as her maidservant.

"What would you like to wear today?" asked Fiona. She reached into the wardrobe and ran her fingers over the many gowns in it. They were coordinated by color. They started with creams and silvers, and ended with deep, rich purples and blacks.

"I do not think we need any sort of rose shade today, milady… Your cheeks are pink enough as it is without a dress bringing it out all the more".

Celine's smile stopped abruptly, and the said blush, which was indeed present, deepened to a crimson color.

"I thought so!" said Fiona. Celine sighed and shook her head. She was forever grateful that Fiona was employed by Zuriel, and not any other master. With her manner of talking so boldly, she would normally have been thrown into the streets by now.

"Silver will do just fine, thank you, Fiona" said Celine graciously, choosing not to let her embarrassment get the best of her.

"Ahh, good, good. I believe Zuriel wanted to take you for a walk about the castle gardens today. This gown has a bit of fur at the sleeves. Very becoming for a wintry day such as today!"

Celine smiled and nodded and donned the gown. The wide, flowing sleeves did indeed end in white fur. Fiona left most of Celine's hair to tumble down around her shoulders and waist in order to keep her warm, and a few curls were left out of the knot Fiona twisted into Celine's hair, in order to frame her face. The gown shimmered prettily, and Fiona commented that it complimented Celine's jade-shaded eyes.

"Thank you" replied Celine with a smile. She made her way to the dining hall, grateful that no one followed or led her, today. She supposed everyone finally trusted her to know her way around most of the chateau.

Zuriel was waiting, as usual, with his hands behind his back and his back facing her.

"Good morning, my angel" he said before turning to her. He gently grabbed her hand and kissed it before Celine could even think to protest- not that she would ever wish to protest a show of affection from Zuriel. She found that her stomach fluttered in a way she had never felt before, and swallowed over the feeling in order to hide it.

"Good morning, Zuriel" she replied, and took her seat at his right hand. They ate in general silence, but it was a comfortable sort of silence that they both seemed to enjoy. They smiled at one another in turn, Zuriel always bold and Celine always timid and blushing. It had been a long time since she had tried her courtesan whiles on him, and she had never looked back since. It was almost impossible a feat now. Instead, she found herself rising from fearsome captive to happy companion, and she knew that this would not have been possible without yesterday's small dispute.

Today's breakfast was especially lovely. Because the castle had been prepared for today's cold weather, they had prepared the morning banquet to match the chilly conditions outside. There were a few colorful dishes of different types of warm berries and some sort of sweet sauce for each. There were steaming breads with swirls of fillings whose recipe origins Celine could not place. While breakfast normally held a wide spectrum of flavors, today's theme was sweet and savory, and Celine loved every minute of it.

When they were finished, Zuriel helped Celine from her seat and guided her out the door. He took her to the gardens, just as Fiona had predicted. This was exciting to Celine, for though she had peered down at the gardens through the drawing room window, and even through her own from time to time, she had not known how to enter them until this moment.

The sun shone brightly, despite the winter's frost that permeated air. Celine blew through circular lips and giggled delightedly when she saw that she could see her own breath. Zuriel smiled subtly, finding himself a little afraid now to let Celine see the extent of his feelings. He felt as if he was changing somehow, thanks to her..

Whereas a few days ago, he would have felt all to comfortable forcing his verbal affection on her, as he had a few times, this day, he felt that it was especially necessary to let Celine come to him. The hope that she was drawing ever closer to the day that she may love him kept him on his toes and cautious as possible. His fear that his passion may drive his little love away kept him sober and silent.

"Your favorite colour rose is blue" he whispered to her, and they came to an easy stop before a sprawling rose bush filled with perfectly bloomed, azure roses.

Celine gasped in delight. "I did not think that they existed!"

Zuriel smirked in a handsome sort of way. "They did not until recently. I have been researching ways to make them bloom in such a colour. Do you like it?"

Celine nodded, mystified. "And I suppose you knew my favorite flower because… one of the servants told you?" she asked innocently. Zuriel nodded, hoping that it did not offend her.

Far from offended, Celine looked honored. "Thank you so much" she breathed, genuine as could be. Zuriel nodded, smirk still in place.

After a pause, Celine's sweet smile turned to a bewildered frown. "You are so young, Zuriel. At least in my eyes…" she said softly, running a delicate fingertip along the petals of a particularly cerulean rose. A slight bit of frost graced its edges, and still the flower did not wither. Amazing...

"Yes…" came his vague reply. His smirk faded.

"How old are you precisely?" she asked.

"Mmmm, twenty-six" he said, though something about his tone alerted Celine's senses.

"Are you sure?" she asked, dropping her hand from the rose bush and turning fully to him. She looked up at him curiously, only slightly intimidated by how far he towered over her.

Zuriel's half smile returned as he leaned forward, inches from the little beauty's face. "I am sure" he whispered. Celine inhaled deeply and nodded, feeling mesmerized.

A small shiver coursed through her body, despite the many layers in her gown. Zuriel tsked nothing in particular and removed his cloak and draped it about her shoulders. His body heat soaked the heavy fabric and warmed Celine immediately.

"I think we should return to the castle" he instructed, and motioned her forward.

……

The rest of the day passed pleasantly enough. Zuriel retired to the library before mid-day meal, but Emily kept Celine company during his absence.

The two took their meals in the dining room. Emily began the conversation as Celine took a bite of succulent roast.

"How are you adjusting to this life so far, Celine?" Her tone was free of common stuffy pleasantries and hidden agendas that Celine remembered from her old way of like during parties in Avilbane. Emily had a sincere sort of voice, and she was very down to earth and stated her point clear as day.

"Very well, I imagine" replied Celine with a little smile. "Though I fear I do not understand why Zuriel is so apt to run away from me. I think I disturbed him in the gardens today". She was not sure why she trusted Emily so easily, considered she fancied herself much closer to Amara. She supposed she could sense that Emily was similar in age to herself, and she knew that if she discussed this with Amara, the older woman would simply tell her that Zuriel was a mystery through and through, and she was not to worry.

"Ha! Frustrating, is he not?" said Emily bluntly. "He thinks he is so confident, but he harbors more secrets than he can keep up with, and fears them being discovered so much that it makes him cowardly". She spoke with no remorse, though Celine found her manner of speech more pleasant than Fiona's bold ways. It was more honest somehow.

"What kind of secrets?" asked Celine, interest thoroughly sparked.

Emily sighed. "I would tell you if I did not fear that he would kill me if I did" She laughed as she said it, in a bitter way, to show that she was joking, but Celine felt that perhaps there was some truth to her words. "He will tell you soon enough. I would not worry about it if I were you. He is smitten with you, everyone here can see it. We have seen it for years now, and he is more in love with you now than he was before you came here. Trust me".

There was a tinge of respect in the way Emily spoke, as if she had been through much with Zuriel and was happy to see him in love. Though it was hard to tell, especially when Celine could not even read her face.

"Why does Fiona seem so different than the rest of you?" asked Celine.

Emily chuckled. "Ahh… her. She drives me insane, that on. She is only sixteen, as I am sure you have figured out. She never spied on you, by the way, when you were younger. She is the newest addition to the staff. Chipper, is she not?

"Right" Celine replied quietly, losing herself in thought as she sipped on her minty tea.

She felt a strange sort of pressure to love Zuriel, come to think of it. She wondered now, if she did not fall in love with Zuriel, though somehow it now seemed an inevitable possibility, would the entire staff here remain invisible forever? And would that upset them?

"Are you alright?" asked Emily, softening for a moment.

Celine nodded. "If… if I do not grow to love Zuriel… what will happen to all of you?"

Emily sighed. "I hardly believe that would be much of an issue. There are such a vast number of servants here, and Zuriel has blessed us all so greatly, I think, if we were to never be seen by another human again... we would all be just fine. The younger ones, I am sure, would hardly appreciate it, because they have not found their loves like much of the people in this castle. And we are not fond of inbreeding, so get that thought out of your mind!"

Celine giggled, having not thought anything to that degree at all, but finding Emily's assumption amusing.

"Anyways… We have lived together, with only each other for support, for many, many years. I think we would manage just fine.

"Zuriel, on the other hand… You are his very air… I think he would die without you". Emily said this last sentence with an annoyed tone, as if she had not the time for such romantic notions. "It is sweet, I suppose, but it puts too much pressure on you, to be sure".

Celine's eyes misted over as she took in all of this new information and let her mind wander where it may again. It was a lot of pressure, about that Emily was right. But the thought of Zuriel in so much pain without her brought tears to Celine's eyes, and she felt glad that her heart was warming so much to her captor.

……..

Zuriel sat alone in the library, breathing heavy and feeling very frustrated. He would have to tell Celine soon... she deserved to know.

But oh, if she were to reject him, he would not be able to bear it.

It was hardly his decision, though, whether or not she loved him. He was beginning to realize how unfair he had been to her. He had protected her for ten years, yes, but being his companion… was that any safer than releasing her unto the lustful, ravenous outside world? He could hardly decide which was worse.

He sat down at his desk and let his head fall into his hands and shook it slowly, feeling heavy hearted. Suddenly, in a fit of bitterness, he rose from his seat and knocked a pile of books he had been studying onto the floor with the back of his hand.

And this… was precisely why he might be a menace to his sweet angel. If he ever lost his temper like this in front of her like he had that night with her a month ago… It would be the death of him. He had hardly been able to bear the pain in her eyes that he had caused then. He would not, _could_ not, do it again.

Cursing silently under his breath, Zuriel picked up one of the heavier novels from the floor, and brushed his hand over his face to clear his head.

The book was about a cursed species of man. Perhaps this would be a subtle way to test Celine's reaction to strange creatures. Feeling a little more confident, Zuriel disembarked from the room in search of Celine. Night time was drawing near, and he could not miss another supper with her again.

……….

After dinner, which was again filled with steaming dishes meant to warm the body, Celine and Zuriel retired to the drawing room, the book from the library in Zuriel's hand. No one followed them for once, and Celine found the absence of invisible pattering feet to be refreshing.

Candles were lit low and romantic, similar to how they always were during nightly meals. There was a sufficient amount of reading light, however, just as Zuriel had requested.

He led Celine to one of the creamy-coloured sofas and took her hand as she sat. He released it and handed her the book, purposely, nervously hiding the title with his hand. Celine did not look down at it, however, and only smiled at him. She took the book after a moment.

"Read from anywhere you like" he said in a soft tone, his courage failing him. He would tell her where his "favorite part" was when the time was right.

Celine nodded and cracked the tome open, and began reading aloud, softly, about faeries and other little sprites. Zuriel leaned back, his arms propped up on either side of the sofa back, and he listened to her voice, mesmerized by her. He commented every once in awhile, on some particularly interesting bit of magic within the book.

The sweet hour, however, was interrupted when Fiona entered the room. Zuriel looked up at her, fairly annoyed by her lack of self-discipline. She was about to ask him something-trivial, he was sure, when suddenly she cried out in a way that alarmed even Zuriel.

"Milord!" she yelled, pointig to the balcony window, where the curtains were parted and a face, unrecognizable in the shadows, was peering at Celine and Zuriel.

"Heavens!" came Celine's explanation, and she dropped the book in fright. Zuriel rose immediately, and hastened to the window with a speed the Celine's tearful eyes could not keep up with. However, by the time he reached the window, who-or whatever- it was, was gone, already scrambling up the gate.

Zuriel cursed aloud, ran out the room, grabbing a frightened Celine in the process, and yelling for Rhys and another nine menservants to catch whomever it was that had just trespassed on castle grounds.

Thundering footsteps sounded past Celine as the men rushed to follow orders. They were gone, out the massive front entrance, before Celine's head could fully clear.

"What is going on?" she asked Zuriel, worry etched on her pretty face.

"I do not know, my love. It is not good, whatever it is." Frustration was evident in Zuriel's expression as he spoke. It was troublesome that he did not know what was going on in his own castle. He had no idea why someone would have come here. No common thief could have found the castle grounds without a map.

He sighed heavily and escorted Celine to her bedchambers. It was the nearest room in the castle to his own quarters and the servants. He felt that she was safest there.

Celine followed him silently, looked around at every shadow with a fair bit of worry.

Another set of footsteps joined their own. "Milord!" The voice was Amara's.

"Yes?" said Zuriel, all of his patience and cool, calm demeanor returned to normal.

"Would you like me to stay with Celine tonight? I mean, of course someone always stands guard outside of her bedroom, but would you like me to sleep in her chambers with her? I have done it before, it really causes no fuss". Amara was speaking very quickly.

"No, that will hardly be necessary" he replied. "I will stand guard outside of her bedroom tonight. Besides, I am hoping Rhys will catch the thief- if thief he may be, and all will be normal again by tomorrow"

Amara seemed disturbed by this, though Celine could not pinpoint why. "Zuriel, do you really think that is a good idea?" she asked pointedly. "Given your state…"

Zuriel stopped and turned on his heal in one smooth motion. "Do not worry, Amara" he said, his voice soothing, but his authority apparent. He shook his head, annoyed at the lack of trust from the woman, and opened the door for Celine so that she could enter her chambers.

"Fiona will be in to undress you in a moment" he said lovingly. Celine nodded, feeling uneasy.

As Zuriel turned to leave her to her nightly duties, Celine called him back.

"Ah… Zuriel… would you mind staying in here with me tonight?" she asked shyly. She did not want to be alone. Knowing that she had been watched without knowing it disturbed her deeply. She did not want to face those feelings alone, especially on such a cold, dreary night.

Zuriel inhaled deeply, thinking. "Of course" he said after a moment. "I will return the moment Fiona is finished with you. Rest easy" he said to her. Celine nodded childishly and turned to her vanity to wait for Fiona.

The said maidservant entered the room moments later. Her rosy outlook brightened Celine's mood fairly quickly, and for once she was thankful for it. Fiona had her dressed in her nightgown and undid her hair within moments, brushing out the long curls so that they rested softly against Celine's back.

Fiona had left on Celine's white stockings, hoping that they would warm her. Zuriel entered immediately after Fiona left, his presence erasing all memory of Fiona's light "goodnight".

"Better?" he asked Celine. She nodded, having had her nerves calmed significantly. One would think she was accustomed to the thought of being watch by the unseen by now, given that she had spent a better portion of her life unknowingly experiencing such a thing. But no, she sadly was not. It was embarrassing, really.

Celine climbed gracefully into bed, looking more the part of the elegant woman she was than the frightened girl she had played the part of moments ago.

Her ankles looked tiny and delicate beneath the crisp white stockings, and the part in her thing night gown gave way to a goodly portion of her thighs, which were almost as white as her gown itself.

She did not meet Zuriel's eyes as she lay down. When she did, she was surprised to find his jaw slightly open. He closed it all at once and dragged the chaise lounge a little closer to her bedside, that she may feel all the more secure.

"If you grow uncomfortable, I can sleep there" she said, feeling upset with herself for having asked this of him.

"Ahh, so you are against me sleeping beside you in bed, then, Celine?" he teased her. A blush colored her cheeks.

"I am only joking" he said, walking near to her and leaning forward as he spoke, so that he was close enough to kiss her.

Celine blinked up at him innocently. He half-smiled and blew out the candles in the candelabra on her bedside.

"Sleep well, angel" he instructed her, rather than wished her, and he took his place on the chaise, feeling confident that they would both rest fine tonight.

…….

Roland, on the other hand, could not sleep at all. His ankle was throbbing, and he was sorely tempted to throw the doctor from his chambers if he did not diagnose him soon.

"Twisted ankle, nothing more, but you will need to let it rest until at least this coming full moon" he said wisely.

Roland rolled his eyes. "You must be joking" he seethed. He had not the time to wait for his ankle to heal. Zuriel looked all too keen on stealing Celine. And Celine, if Roland's eyes had not failed him, looked all too intrigued by Zuriel as well.

This was impossible. Celine had been promised to him since her very infancy, and another man had dared to steal her from him.

Roland folded his arms and leaned his head back, refusing to look at his bandaged ankle. The pain from the fall at the castle had not come to full fruition until Roland was halfway home to Avilbane, and it had begun to throb exquisitely. He had been nursing the damned thing since he arrived at Colne Manor. Luckily, Lord Colne was away on business, so he did not question his son's whereabouts for the day. Not that Roland truly had to answer to him in the first place, still, it was better that he did not have to deal with anyone at the moment.

Especially the doctor. He wished now that he had not called him here in the first place. He could have diagnosed his damned ankle himself!

"Alright, alright, out, now, thank you sir" said Roland monotonously, hiding his inner annoyance.

The doctor raised a gray, bushy eyebrow, but left soundly enough, warning Roland again, on his way out of his bedchambers, that he needed to rest. Roland through him a look of utter distaste, and the doctor was gone.

Roland did not have the time for such follies. He needed to return Celine to her _home_. To her rightful place beside him.

He decided that he would wait a week, and not a moment longer. He also wondered, for a moment, if the witch had somehow predicted that all of this would happen, and that was what the potion was for. He stared over at the glass vile, which was placed on his bedside. It seemed to mock him.

He would have to drink it now. He somehow knew that. He did not know if it was blood or a mixture unheard of by popular science, but he knew he needed it to kill Zuriel.

Rolling over on his side and ignoring the pain it brought to his ankle, he did his best to sleep, though when he finally did, his slumber was one of unrest.


	10. Confession Is Not Always Holy

**A/N- **I hope and pray that this entire chapter flows alrighty. I had half of it written, then I changed a majority of it, and then I had a minor bout of obsession with playing The Sims 2, and needless to say, ti distracted me from writing. Anywho, here you go. Truthful reviews would be awesome. :)

**Chapter 10**

Zuriel was still there when Celine awoke. She had hoped, in an embarrassing sort of way, that she would awaken before he did, so that she may see how a man that exuded such an immense aura looked when he was sleeping and defenseless. However, he was wide awake, his ponytail straight and his face showing only the smallest hint of newly grown facial hair. It was more of a shadow of a beard than anything, barely noticeable.

It was rather daunting, really, to awaken knowing that her hair was not smooth and fearing she may have spoken in her sleep or worse, and seeing that the man that had watched over her looked positively perfect.

Zuriel smiled enough to reveal the tips of a series of white teeth, sharp and dull in all the correct places.

Very daunting indeed…

He spoke first, naturally, being the more confident one. "Good morning" he said formally. Celine blinked her wide eyes and sat up in bed, self consciously and subtly smoothed her hair with her hands. "And to you" she said, letting only the slightest hint of her courtesan training shine through, as to mask her lack of confidence. She half smiled in a seductive manner that was meant to be mild, but, of course, came on stronger than she meant for it to, in a thoroughly positive way. Zuriel's mysterious whisper of a smile widened ever so slightly, but other than that, he made no acknowledgement of the girl's show. Besides, he knew all too well how shy she was, and knew that it was only a cover up when she unleashed such weapons upon him. Flirting was not part of her regimen.

"Did you sleep at all, my lord?" she asked, feeling that some form of formality was needed, given the awkward situation she had put them both in. Zuriel seemed accustomed, as always, to being less than proper, and still seemed evermore the gentleman. But Celine would normally never do such a thing as sleep in the same room with a man she was not wed locked to.

"Now now, I thought we were past all that. It is Zuriel" he said, his tone bossy as it was last night, but somehow it lacked the harshness of a normal teacher. Blushing at her mistake, Celine nodded slowly.

"Will you excuse me, Zuriel?" she asked, blinking less often than needed.

"Of course".

Celine rose gracefully as always, and padded into her bathroom. She washed her face and cleaned her teeth, and chose to leave her hair be after a quick look in her mirror.

She returned to her bedchambers and slid into her robe, as to appear more dignified, and turned to face her master.

He was standing now, hands behind his back, and seemed to have changed already. His coat was not the deep blue velvet it had been last night, and instead was replaced by a silk jacket that was a dark enough red to appear black in the shadows. Celine, knowing how quickly the servants here operated, did not think twice of it. She knew he must have asked Amara or some such member of the castle staff to retrieve him a new set of clothing while she had been in the bathroom.

Zuriel stepped forward, admiring Celine from a short distance. Her hair glowed subtly in the sunlight, turning it a deep, golden hue. Her cheeks were still damp from her recent face washing. A few rainbow droplets of water clung to the dark, thick sweep of her eyelashes. She smiled a little, unsure of what to do next. Normally she would be with Fiona at this time, preparing to meet Zuriel for breakfast. The smell of fresh morning foods was already wafting into her bedchambers. She wondered why Fiona had not come yet.

She opened her mouth ever so slightly, about to question whether or not they were to attend breakfast this morning, when Zuriel closed the small gap of distance between them to silence her. He seemed to be searching her face for a secret she did not have. Finally, he moved, leaning forward carefully towards her forehead. He kissed her there, sotfly and tenderly, and straightened again, looking almost mournful. She tried stared up at his throat as he did this, unsure of how to react. Instead of feeling joyous that he had finally touched her romantically, she felt that the gesture was not romantic at all, but sorrowful, and was confused by it.

Celine blinked too quickly, looking from his face to the floor in turn. She wondered if it was at all appropriate to voice her thoughts about him before he did of her… He had just initiated physical contact, after all. Perhaps it was alright…

"Zuriel… I… You make me feel very…". She fumbled over her words, and a blush, deep crimson in colour, rose to her fair cheeks.

"There is something I want to show you" he interrupted. "Break your fast first, and then meet me outside of the dining hall"

Frowning in confusion, she nodded and obeyed. She felt hurt- more than she cared to admit. Was she so undesirable, then? Surely he could tell what she had been _trying_ to say.

He left her then, seeming unmoved by her pain. Fiona entered moments after, to find Celine with the same expression on her face.

"Mysterious, is he not?" Fiona commented, once again overstepping her boundaries as chambermaid.

"Indeed", replied Celine, remembering herself. She let Fiona dress her in a becoming ice blue gown, its sleeves coming to a point at her middle finger.

"Frustratingly so"

_______________________________________________________________________

Zuriel, even if he was hungry- and he was not- had the small matter of questioning Rhys to attend to. While Celine had slept peacefully last night, Zuriel had sat awake, thinking of who could have been here at the castle. He knew that if he had been alone, in his own chambers, he would not be thinking, but angrily fumbling around in his mind for answers. Celine's presence had calmed him enough so that he remained peaceful throughout the night, even if he could not sleep.

Zuriel burst through the doors to the servant's quarters, his pace fast but not rushed. Given the high time of morning, there was hardly anyone there now. They were all either busy frolicking where they wished or completing morning chores- depending on which set of servants was working this week.

These quarters were a rather unique part of the castle. Not only were they pretty, rather than dull and undecorated as servants quarters tended to be, but they were almost like a small castle in and of themselves. There was a main hall, where seating areas were plenty. This was a room he had designed for them to collaborate amongst themselves. There were couches and chairs aplenty, and a fireplace- larger than any other in the castle- was still crackling merrily. The fire there had by now died down, but last night it would have been roaring with life.

All their loyalty to him did not go unrewarded… He treated his staff fairly.

His eyes searched for Rhys. Normally he would already be dining, but today he knew Rhys would be somewhere within his own quarters, wracking his brain much like his master. It was not the most frustrating of happenings, really, having seen a man watching them. It was disturbing, because for all his years of spying on Celine, he had never experienced the feeling. However, the castle was filled with far too many servants to be of any real danger.

Still, the matter would not go undealt with. Without a map, this castle was very frustrating to find. He wondered vaguely if that damned witch he had made that deal with ten years ago had anything to do with this.

No… that was much too dramatic. Roland and William were both too stupid and too full of themselves to even know to seek out a witch in a situation like this, let alone find this exact witch's location…

"My lord". It was Rhys' voice. Zuriel turned to find him seated casually on a nearby chair.

"You must be truly smitten with her to be so careless. You did not even notice me" said Rhys. He rose nimbly for a man of his size. Though not as tall or as well- muscled as his master, Rhys was well built in height and in stature. His blond hair flowed in waves to the middle of his back, and his even-present smirk was fastened to his lips.

Zuriel cleared his throat and raised an eyebrow. He loved his friend and ally, truly, but now was not the time or the place.

"Ahh, right", he said, sobering his tone. Some of the sparkle in his blue eyes faded. "Well, we have searched everywhere we can. I do not know how the hell the man was able to get away. He was have truly been terrified to have gotten to his mount with such haste.

"We suspect that he may be Roland. The man looked-"

Zuriel interrupted his speech. "Roland? How in God's name…"

"If I may be so bold, old friend, I believe you- we- underestimated him. It is not impossible that he could have found his way here. He is just as obsessed as Celine's father with the girl's beauty. Obtaining her as a bride would be the greatest feat in his family's history"

Zuriel nodded and waved his hand in dismissal. He knew all of that. He was pacing now, staring at the ground. His expression was frustrated.

"You are quite right. Very well then. I assume there are already others who are watching him, then?"

"Of course".

Zuriel sighed and nodded. He turned to go.

"You are going to tell her today…"

Rhys' words were more of a question than a statement.

"Yes I am". Zuriel felt heavy, weighed down by the task at hand. He was glad, for what may be the first time, to not be with his love. He needed this time to prepare…

"Any known strategies?" asked Rhys. This, at least, made Zuriel smile.

"She is not a battlefront, Rhys", he told his friend softly, and with that he was gone, halfway down the hall before Rhys could reply.

_________________________________________________________

Celine rather rushed to the dining hall, and ate very little, somehow managing to ignore the tempting scents of the banquet before her. She was finished in moments, having hurried so that she may all the sooner be with Zuriel again. She did not like being separated from him as of late, and it was for more than the comfort of seeing an actual human instead of only feeling them like she felt the rest of the people here.

She walked so quickly that she almost missed him. He called out her name to draw her attention to his location. He was standing just outside the dining hall doors.

"Come with me", he said, though his tone was humble. Unlike yesterday, he was speaking in requests, and not instructing her. He held out his arm that she may take it in her own, which she did. She was feeling fearful now. His actions pointed to a surprise in the works, but she feared it was a negative surprise, in the way that he behaved.

She immediately recognized the path they were taking as they walked. Her first day here, she had been lost many times over. Her first time trying to reach the dining hall, she had come across a rather medieval looking hall. The way there had seemed longer then, because she had gone in circles so many times. But Zuriel knew his castle's every brick and painting, and thus led her to the hall within a minute.

The hall held a sort of unwanted nostalgia to it. As she had grown closer to Zuriel, she had begun to miss her home less and less, and found the castle more and more comfortable. Now, seeing a place she had not seen since she had first arrived here, memories of her initial anxiety flooded back. She pushed it aside.

The corridor was dark, with no windows and only one small chandelier lighting the way. This chandelier was unlike any that Celine had thus far encountered in the castle. She stared up at it, having already seen the rest of the room and remembering its features. She must have overlooked it when she had passed by this hall before. It was black, and hung from a chain of some sort of steel, rather than the shining silver and gold that Celine had now grown accustomed to. The chandelier itself looked like plain black wood, and candles were set precariously on its edges, free of decoration or any kind of flattering detail. Strange…

But not as strange as the suits of armor that lined the hallway. There were at least a dozen on each side, all baring the same crest. It was based off of some sort of wolf head, and was blue and silver. A gray moon was placed behind the wolf head silhouette, which seemed to be howling at it.

"To what family does that crest belong to?" Celine asked softly. She was beginning to relax, thinking that perhaps Zuriel only sought to share a bit of his past with her, at last, and there was no cause for panic.

"My own", he replied.

Celine's arm was still looped through his, with her hand resting on his upper arm. It was unnecessarily tensed, and the hard muscle there was warmer than Celine would have expected. Was he nervous?

"Do you it is mean your ancestors'' crest?" she asked innocently. Zuriel shook his head, his silver eyes scanning the hall, as if to avoid her own.

She stared up at him intensely, daring him to meet her eyes. He did after a silent moment.

"No. It is my family's crest… My immediate family's".

Celine lowered her eyes, letting their gaze rest on the floor so she could contemplate what he was telling her.

"But it is medieval", she said finally, having wracked her brain and finding no solution to the puzzle he had just presented her with.

"Indeed it is", came the quiet reply. He began walking forth, towards the large, dark and looming doors at the end of the corridor.

"What is behind them?" she asked, inclining towards them with her head as she waited for his answer.

"My bedchambers".

Celine's face twisted into a delicate frown. Despite their unorthodox sleeping arrangements last night, she knew Zuriel to be a gentleman of a higher class than she had ever encountered before. Surely… surely he was not being suggestive?

No, of course he was not. Silly notion, really.

Celine's mind reeled as he pushed open the entryway. It was silent as it opened, though Celine had been expecting some sort of creaking noise, given the old style of the entire space.

Within was indeed what could only have been Zuriel's bedchambers. There was a bit more light in here due to a few slim windows, but those were covered by sheer curtains, which were billowing slightly in the breeze. Many standing candelabras were placed randomly throughout the room, and the heat from their candles made the room warmer than Celine was used to. Still, it felt nice, given the chilly conditions outside the castle.

There was a large bed in the middle of the room, backed up against a wall. A black canopy was draped about the entire thing, but it was gauzy enough to reveal what the bed beneath it looked like. There were midnight blue covers and too many pillows there. The walls themselves were exposed brick, gray in colour just like the castle walls outside.

The things that caught her eye most prominently were the tapestries. Ten or so of them hung from the dark walls. Creatures of the night decorated every one of them. Werewolves, Celine guessed. She had heard a few horror stories as a girl, but had never actually seen one. The long fangs, wolf heads, and hairy but human-esque bodies could be nothing but the night prowlers she remembered. They all looked almost handsome, sensual somehow in all their power. But that did little to distract Celine from the feeling of terror that they gave her.

"Why do you surround yourself with such darkness?" she asked Zuriel. She did her best to keep her voice steady and understanding, lest she scare him off. She had, for what now seemed like forever, dreamed of seeing the place where he laid his head to rest every night. Though this place was nothing like she had imagined, it seemed to suit him.

Zuriel cleared his throat. Celine had always thought him somehow above acts of nervousness. Yet here he was, tense and anxious, doing little to hide his emotions from her. This was a side of him that Celine had never seen before, and she felt honored.

She withdrew her arm from his and walked in front of him to draw his attention. Still, he stared off, deathly still and quiet. She reached up and placed her small, pale hands tenderly on his cheeks. They were hard, and his cheekbones were high and slightly hallow. It only added to his good looks. She stroked them for a moment before gently forcing his head down so that he may meet her eyes.

"Tell me", she said simply, knowing he would know what she meant. "Please…" she added pleadingly.

Zuriel's loud, frustrated sigh filled the silence. He jerked his head out of her hands and began pacing before her. "I cannot figure out how they work, Celine. I have tried for countless years, to uncover why the moon forces them to change, where the curse originated from, how to stop it. I cannot!" His voice raised in volume slowly, from a soft explanation to a sort of hopeless bellow. Celine's eyes widened in surprise. She had not seen him behave this way since he had first lost his temper with her when she had tried to seduce him into letting her go free from this place.

She waited quietly for his breathing to calm and even out. "Why do you wonder such things? Surely… surely it does not matter?" She somehow sensed that her words would appear foolish to him, though she could not gather why.

"Yes it does", he shot back quietly. His voice was shaky, and his eyes were sorrowful. Thankful as she was that he was allowing her to see this part of him- whatever part this might be, she felt frightened and wished she could make him stop.

"But why?" Her voice was barely above a whisper now.

"Because I want to be cured".

Every tiny muscle in Celine's marble-esque neck tensed as the weight of his words bore down on her. She dropped slowly to the ground, her hands gripping the bedpost behind her for support.

"I do not understand, my lord" she whispered so quietly she feared he would not hear. She was unsure of what to call him now, frustrated and passionate as he was.

"Yes you do", he replied simply, bitterly. He had calmed himself, and a heart-breaking sort of remorse had taken a hold of him. His face was twisted into a look so powerful and yet pitiable that Celine felt frozen in her place.

She breathed shallowly, and her gaze dropped from his statue-like form to the ground beneath her. She dropped her head, thinking as quickly as her fragile state of mind would allow her.

He could not be serious… Invisible servants, witch's spells… those she could take. But werewolves?

But then, it made sense. His absence during dinner, the howl that night…

The howl outside her bedroom window two moons ago.

"O my God", she breathed.

Her words stung him, though he did not show it. He had recovered, externally, at least. His hands were once again behind his back, and his expression was aristocratic and regal enough to mask every one of his reeling emotions. He was prepared for her to run. For her to scream for help. For his precious angel to look at him scornfully and wish for Roland, her more normal suitor.

She did none of these things. After awhile, he realized that he could no longer hear her panicked breathing. He turned to find her still on the floor, but not sitting in an upright position, deep in thought. She looked more ethereal than he could find words to describe. Her face, calmer than he could ever have imagined, was tearstained but peaceful. Her chest rose and fell at a perfect, mild pace.

Unable to stop himself, he kept his distance, but spoke. "What are you thinking, my love…"

She seemed almost startled by his voice, as if she had forgotten he was there.

She blinked rapidly, in the way that she tended to do before she said something profound and unexpected. She held out her hand to her, asking with her eyes for assistance in standing.

Slightly braver due to this possible stroke of gracious fate, he strode forward slowly and took her hand in his, more careful than ever not to crush it. She was so delicate, so fragile…

She rose gracefully before him, her gaze meeting his, daring him to look away. He realized that she was standing on her tip toes, and she placed her hands on his chest for balance. Slowly, nervously, she leaned towards him, until finally her soft lips met his hard cheek. The kiss made the softest and sweetest of noises. When she was done, she dropped back down, even more slowly, to a flat-footed position.

Celine waited patiently, hoping silently that he would not take her answer to his confession in a negative way. She hoped he would not think that she mocked him. She hoped… she hoped for the strength to keep hoping.

Zuriel's stony expression lightened to a small, cocky smile. Whatever emotional drain he may be feeling, he hid it well.

"You will not run, then?" he asked her.

She thought for a moment. "If I did, would you chase me?" Her playful tone was raw, given the strained atmosphere they had created around them.

Zuriel swallowed, finding her words struck a chord he did not wish to sound. His smile faded. "Yes".

"Is that such a bad thing?"

"I could kill you, Celine", he said seriously. "With you, in your presence, it is easier than I ever imagined, keeping this… beast"-he spat the word-"at bay. But I am not perfect".

"I would be honored to die at your hand" she said honestly, and dropped her head.

Morbid little thing, she was. "You do not know what you are saying".

She stared up at him once more, blinking too quickly again.

"You are an old man, I think", she said. This comment took him off guard.

"How would you know such a thing?"

"Your pictures, from when you were a child. They are in some of the galleries…"

Zuriel held back a quiet curse. "I did not think you would recognize them to be me".

"You underestimate me more often than I would like, my lord. I find it rather offensive".

How she kept managing to be light and playful in this dark hour, Zuriel was unsure. Somehow it broke the tension though, and for that, he was grateful.

"How old are you. Truthfully, please". Her tone was more timid now. She was afraid of and intrigued by knowing the answer.

"I was twenty-six when I was bitten. That was just over 300 years ago".

Celine held back a gasp. It did not matter, she told herself.

"I suppose I seem to you a very foolish child, then, with every mistake that I make? You must have gathered much wisdom over so many years".

Once again, Celine's reply surprised him. Her face held no horrified expression. Only curiosity and embarrassment for herself; for _her_ flaws.

"I am intelligent, Celine… not wise. I was a fool to drag you here. A fool to believe that I could _force_ you into love. A fool to believe that you could accept this".

"I think I am accepting everything just fine", she replied, looking genuinely offended this time. Zuriel's lips turned upwards ever so slightly.

"Indeed you are angel. Forgive me".

She smiled a fairly hollow smile, seeming satisfied with his acceptance of her reactions. Her body was with him but her mind was not. She seemed to be drifting off to another place again.

"May I know your story, Zuriel?" she asked, looking off into nothing. It was almost like a self defensive strategy… If his story hurt, she was only half here anyway, so she would not feel it very much.

Zuriel swallowed hard. It stung him to see the girl he had loved so deeply, for more years than she had known until recently, in so much turmoil. Her emotions were one small high and one deep low, one after the other. She would not need him tonight in order to rest- fitful or not, her sleep would come quickly and on its own. Surely she would be exhausted by this day's end.

"What would you like to know?"

Celine answered slowly. "Where were you born? And to whom?"

Zuriel could have sighed with relief. These questions, at least, were simple enough to answer.

"I was born in Vassenbone', to Queen Elspeth and King Gerard".

Celine gasped.

"Surely you have heard of it", said Zuriel, his tone lightly teasing now. He knew the true reason for her shock.  
"Well, my _lord_, that does explain a few things", she said. And it did. The regal air of him, the hundreds of servants, the complete knowledge about the building of castles…

"It is still Zuriel to you, my love", he corrected. She smirked and nodded.

"And how… how were you made this way?" She chose her words carefully, not wanting to wound either one of them any further.

Zuriel cocked his head ever so slightly to one side, finding himself unprepared to answer this question. When he had prepared to tell her of his origins, today, he had assumed that by this point she would have already fled the castle and been done with him. He had not expected her to not only stay, but be sweetly curious.

"Werewolves were once a common part of culture. Everyone knew that they existed, and peace was kept with them at all times- except when they were hungry. It was hard to decipher who was infected and who was not, and by the time one did, the full moon was already raised and it was too late. Werewolves were living within my father's court, and we did not even know it until they changed for the first time. They killed nearly everyone, including my parents. Myself and just under forty servants and members of the court were left alive, and that is only because the bloodshed stopped with the rising of the sun- the lycans had been cut short in their meal by the coming of the morning.

"I did not even realize I had been bitten until that night. I told Rhys first, my most loyal of friends. He kept it a secret at first, and we both began to devise ways to keep me at bay. All month long, even as my newly inherited temper flared and calmed, we, along with the rest of the survivors, rebuilt what we could of the castle. All the while we thought of ways to cure me. Finally, the day of the night of the full moon, we realized it was hopeless. I ate as much as I could, that I would not feed on members of my own court, and Rhys locked me within my own bedchambers. I remembered nothing. That was how it went with werewolves, I soon discovered. We can change at will, with enough discipline, and in such a case, we remember everything when he transform back to our human selves. But when the moon is full and high, we have no choice in changing, and we remember nothing".

Celine listened with patience. To Zuriel she looked more beautiful now than she ever had. God must truly be either astoundingly clever or cruel, to have made such a woman for Zuriel. He hoped that she would not leave him when the shock of it all settled…

She was perfect. He never imagined she would be this understanding.

"My mother had loved roses almost as much as you do. They grew rampant throughout the castle gardens. One day it occurred to me- through my newly gained immortality, my blood had changed. I began researching in the castle library, searching for knowledge about my kind. I found very little but learned that werewolf venom was in the mouth only, and the body only produces it when in true werewolf form. My blood was completely unharmed, even changed as it was.

"I began, on a strange sort of whim, feeding one particular rose bush with small amounts of my blood instead of water. I found that over time the roses bloomed more beautiful than the rest. After consulting Rhys, I began instructing the servants to make teas from the petals.

"It was not confirmed that it was working as I had planned until years later, when Rhys and I realized no one had aged since they had begun drinking the tea. My suspicions had been joyously confirmed. It was then that we ousted my true nature to the rest of the castle, who seemed to have been suspicious anyway. They did not receive the news well until we informed them that we had found the key to immortality. Then, of course, as selfish humans are pat to do, they accepted my fate.

"Eventually, we began to travel, searching for new and better lands. Our castle was too strangely run now to be accepted by others, and the community around us was beginning to grow once more. I gave my servants permission to take anyone they wanted with them- lovers, family… I also gave them permission to give others the tea, but only if, of course, they were absolutely sure of their loyalty to them and to me.

"Over the years our numbers grew from forty to a hundred strong, and finally, as it stands now, there are a few hundred of us".

Celine took in the strange, fascinating story with an open mind. When he was finished, Celine found that his common logic made the words he spoke more believable. He had not said anything, after all, that really sounded so impossible now.

"Where did you live all of this time?"

"We lived mostly in one particular castle, which we built deep into the forest of Vassenbone'. Eventually, however, as the city grew, we were forced to relocate. We have lived here ever since. Of course the castle has changed much since the discovery of you. I had them add on your quarters and things like the drawing room. I have no need for such things, of course, but I knew you would find them familiar and to your liking".

Celine smiled softly at this. The grandeur materials and set up of the drawing room were hardly familiar. But she found comfort in its beauty nonetheless, so it still served its purpose.

"I am… I do not know what to say", she said finally. Her voice was airy, and her mind, which had been concentrating so hard on his words, was somewhere else again, wondering how to take everything.

Zuriel nodded understandingly. An odd sort of relief spread through him. All these years, his servants had been able to tell their lovers- as they found them- their strange tale. All these years they had lived with companions and had children and been, despite everything, fairly normal. He, their source of life, had been the burdened one. And now he felt quite unburdened. It was a blessed feeling, he found.

He wanted to ask her outright if she would leave him. He wanted the peace of mind of having her absolute word. But he could not burden her any further than he already had. She had much to think about, much to swallow. Anyway, he knew, somehow, deep down, that she would not run. She would stay, even in the eye of the storm.


	11. The Kiss and the Spell

**A/N- **I must remind you all again, so that you do not think me lazy: this is a very very rough draft of my story. Everything that I have posted thus far is. I post it here so that I can recieve either praise or criticism for the storyline, characters, ect. But I know it's not perfect, so I do apologize for all the hiccups in it. I plan to go back over it and add at least 20k words to it, and revise it completely when I am finished with this :) Also, I expected this chapter to be much longer than it was... o well. :) Enjoy, I hope.

**Chapter 11**

Zuriel and Celine sat on one of the sofas in the library. A book, written on the subject of science, lay open in Celine's lap. Zuriel had prompted her to read the thing, at least his favorite parts. Though she was hardly a woman of science, Celine agreed, more for interest in Zuriel than for interest in the subject.

She had always imagined that men of science would be crazy, animated little characters. It was strange seeing the darkly handsome, aristocratic Zuriel informing her in a slow, steady voice, about the anatomy of a flower.

Then again, it was not so strange a thing. She had come to terms with his confession a week ago. She had contemplated it, obsessed over it, lost sleep over it, and in the end she found herself feeling just as peaceful about it as she had the first day he had told her. It was a terrifying secret at first glance, but now, thrown in the midst of a world where magics she never knew existed were bound to flourish, she found herself believing in almost anything. The world was not so scary when you knew that most anything was possible, both good and bad. It seemed more beautiful this way.

This was why she found it perfectly reasonable for such a stately man as Zuriel to be well taught on the subject of something such as science. Three hundred years to do nothing but soak in your surroundings… What a precious gift.

"How much do you know about science, Celine?" asked Zuriel suddenly. He must have realized that her thoughts were drifting off.

He sat across from her on the sofa, one leg crossed over the other and one arm propped up on the sofa back in a highly relaxed position. Celine sat beside him, her hands folded in her lap and her glossy eyes staring off into nothing.

She looked up at him, startled. "Ahhh… I have been thoroughly trained in the art of seducing men, and in the beauty of poetry. I know little beyond that." It was true, too.

Zuriel nodded and rose, planning to search for another book. The opening of the main library doors stopped him.

"Yes, Rhys?" he said promptly, turning to look straight into the eyes of a man that Celine could not see.

"Roland is still in bed, though he is almost fully recovered. It seems my original suspicions were wrong. He is hardly a threat, and I very much doubt now that it was he that was here before" said the man. His voice was slightly melodic for a male. It was fascinating to listen to.

Celine smiled to herself as the two men talked. It must be strange for Rhys, addressing Zuriel about matters of importance in front of a woman. This was rarely done in present days, but given that they were both used to a medieval atmosphere… very strange indeed.

She was honored that Zuriel chose to speak freely in front of her. It made her feel rather important.

Their conversation finished, with Celine not hearing the rest. She had been too lost in her own ponderings. Zuriel walked over to her, hands behind his back, which was straight as a board, and stopped just in front of the sofa.

"I am glad that that is settled. I am still uneasy about being watched in my own castle, but seeing as no harm was done, I suppose we can all get on with our lives now." A small, sly smile played on his lips. Celine felt the same relief.

"Now then. The sun is setting, and I suggest we both ready ourselves for dinner. Amara is planning a surprise for us both, I think… Even Emily is taking part in whatever it is. So be prepared."

Zuriel's announcement caught Celine off guard. A surprise? For what purpose? She voiced her questions aloud.

"I believe it is to hurry along our feelings for each other. Amara is quite the matchmaker, you see… Never mind that I found you on my own." He shook his head in slight amusement. "She is a mystery, that woman."

Celine blushed and smiled. Zuriel accompanied her along the halls until they reached the hall leading to his bedchamber. It was there that the two parted ways. Celine walked a little further, down a few other twists and turns, until she reached her own bedroom.

"Hello milady!" Fiona's greeted caused Celine to jump. When would the girl learn how nerve-wracking it was to not see her coming?

"Good evening, Fiona," replied Celine, ever patient. Realizing her hand was over her heart, something she must have done in the midst of her shock, she swept a fallen curl out of her face and turned to face Fiona, wherever she was.

It was no use trying to locate her, however, because the girl took her usual position beside the vanity before Celine could place her original location.

"In my opinion, gold would be a pretty color for tonight," she stated.

Celine shrugged delicately in response. "Alright."

She watched as Fiona pulled a gown in the said color off the bed. Given that it was not in Celine's wardrobe, she assumed it had been freshly made for her. A gasp was drawn from her lips as she took in the beauty that was the dress.

It shimmered in the light of the setting sun, who's rays poured through the open window behind where Fiona was holding up the gown. It was cream colored through and through, but a sheer gold overlay caused it to glimmer in every place imaginable. Fiona spun the thing around excitedly so that Celine could see the back. The fabric gathered over a very full bustle, and was seemingly held in place by three golden fabric flowers.

"What is the occasion, Fiona?" It took Celine a moment to find her voice. An unusual woman or not, she, like any other female, had an eye for beauty and fashion. It was not hard to recognize the hours of work that had gone into making this gown.

"Occasion? There is no occasion," replied Fiona. Her tone was mysterious- which was no small feat, given how apt Fiona was to gossip.

She happily helped Celine out of her old gown and into the new one, giggling excitedly all the while.

"You are frightening me, Fiona," said Celine after a few minutes of this.

"Am I?"

Celine sighed, giving up. Whatever it was that had the girl in such a state, it was bound to reveal itself soon.

With her hair properly twisted and curled and pinned up, Celine made her way to dinner. The dining room was lit with candles as usual, but this time there were more than Celine could count. Candlesticks glimmered over the entire expanse of the table, setting the crystal chandelier aglow from below. Zuriel was not, for once, facing the opposite direction of the approaching Celine. Instead he was waiting, with one hand laid casually on the back of his chair, facing towards her. One of his eyebrows was raised so high it nearly disappeared into his hairline.

He, too, was overdressed given that dinner was their only plan tonight. He wore a black velvet frockcoat, the arms of which were covered in gold threaded designs. He looked more the part of the prince he once was than Celine had ever seen. His boots were buffed to a high shine, and the sides of his breeches shone with the same gold color as his frockcoat.

"I think, by now, Celine, I have discovered what it is everyone is planning. But given that it is so much more fun when you do not know, I believe I will keep the secret for everyone." He pulled out Celine's chair as he spoke. Celine looked up at him, bewildered.

"Zuriel… that is hardly fair," she complained. She wished he could understand how frightening it was not seeing everyone, and knowing that they were up to something she could not know about.

"Just finish dinner and accompany me downstairs. If I am correct, everything will be revealed within the hour." He looked confident as ever. Celine groaned slightly, too softly for anyone to hear.

Amara did not serve them this night. Instead two males – as far as Celine could gather from the sound of their voices- ladled creamy soups and decadent vegetable dishes onto their plates. Celine ate quietly, both nervous and excited all at once. Zuriel commented to both of the servants, stating that they were dressed very nicely on this night. The statement made Celine wonder if the entire castle was dressed as they were.

They finished their meal with sweet desserts. Celine felt grateful that she had grow at least a little accustomed to the luxurious flavors her meals here had to offer. If not, she would have eaten her way to being a larger woman than even Zuriel could handle.

The entirety of dinner was a silent affair. It was not awkward, but the excitement felt throughout the castle made it hard to think of a sufficient subject to discuss. Celine was relieved when it was over.

"Now," said Zuriel, rising and helping her out of her seat. "If you will come with me, my dear Celine, I believe we will find out what all the fuss is about."

Celine giggled as she took his arm, sensing the mild annoyance her host felt at being outwitted in his own domain. He led her to the grand staircase. She felt confused, having thought there was little to explore on the first floor. When they reached the bottom of the staircase, he turned to the right and led her down a short hallway. Yet another right turn, and there were double doors to their left. He gave her a reassuring glance and pushed the doors open.

Immediately, music from another time began to play. It was medieval, if Celine could guess right. Cheers and clapping greeted Zuriel. Celine held her place a few paces from the door, anxious over the sudden commotion.

"Stop fretting, my love. They have only thrown us a ball," Zuriel explained patiently. Her questioning glance turned into a pretty smile. She took his outstretched hand and entered the ballroom with him.

It had not occurred to her just how many bodies there were in the castle until this moment. She could feel their heat, but her eyes saw none of them. It was enough to almost cancel her equilibrium completely. Zuriel steadied her.

Celine took in the room around her, which, according to common logic, must make up half of the first level of the castle. It was as vast as it was grand. Everything was bathed in gold light. A chandelier, so large it was a marvel it did not fall from the ceiling, sparkled softly up above. Not all of its candles were lit, so that the tone of the room was just lively enough to keep everything feeling bright.

The walls were painted with pictures of roses and sunsets and every beautiful thing Celine could think of. The tiles were a pure, pristine white. Marble pillars reached from ceiling to floor in a perfect circle around the room.

If ever Zuriel had somehow felt unworthy of Celine, she now wondered how such a feeling could have come about. Cursed man or not, he had truly outdone himself.

"Lovely," she breathed. He did not look at her, but flashed his ever cocky smile and stared straight again, to the middle of the dance floor.

Amazed as she was by the scenery around her, it still seems somehow unnecessary to hold a ball so grand. Surely all the servants saw each other every day anyway? But then, perhaps she was just being selfish. They had done this for her and Zuriel, after all, and she was not about to ruin the beautiful mood with her mundane questions.

The pace of the music changed to a slower, romantic melody. Flutes and violins could be heard, as well as instruments so old she could not name them. Zuriel took Celine by her hand and spun her away from and back to him.

Celine grinned at him, thankful now for her never-ending dancing lessons. She had not put them to use in so long. Even at her engagement party, she had spent so much of the night meeting and greeting those around her, she had not had the time to partake in the dancing that had gone on that night.

The shuffling sound of feet let Celine know that many others in the room were dancing around them. It was almost magical feeling, truth be told. She had always imagined that when she found the man she loved, it would feel like there was no one else in the room. Here and now, the feeling was literal.

Zuriel took Celine by her waist and lifted her from the ground while spinning both of them once around. She gasped in delight, and giggled, feeling truly carefree. He smirked at this. Such a lovely creature, his little captive was…

After a few dances, wine was brought to the couple. They sipped it slowly, off to the side of the dance floor, before finishing and returning to the festivities. The room was louder now, happy voices mixed in with clapping and music. It was marvelous.

* * *

Roland stared at the vile in his hands. The cork which had kept it sealed had been cast off somewhere in the forest. He was standing not far from the castle he had visited only a week ago. He could hear some sort of merry-making coming from within. It was disgusting; the thought of this positively medieval-looking place being the birthing ground to a party such as what was going on…

He had cast off the vile's seal only moments ago, as a way to prevent him from not taking it. He knew that if he did not have the top, he would not be able to keep the contents from spilling out on the way home. This way, he had to take it... there was no alternative.

The smell of blood entered his nostrils in a way that brought bile to his throat. He swallowed it back down, refusing to let it get the best of him.

He had to take this. He had been contemplating doing it all day. He needed Celine back. She was his property, and the thought of his property being stolen from him brought more anger to Roland that he could bare.

Celine's father had been no help since that day in the forest. He had returned to his usual routine of bothering every member of the high class that he happened upon. His other two daughters were no different. He was a marvel, that man. One moment he could not think or breathe without his beautiful daughter... The next, money had poisoned any righteous disposition he had left, and he could care less if he found Celine again. That was how it appeared to Roland, at least.

Without thinking, without breathing, without moving anything but his hand, that he may raise the vile to his lips, he downed the entirety of its contents. The first swallow was enough to make him vomit, but after that, it became easier… almost intoxicating.

It was not until he had drunk the last drop that he felt any sort of change. His stomach burned, and it was not from the acid that had been almost causing him to wretch. It was something else.

The burning sensation increased at a rapid pace, and then was replaced by a sort of soreness that he could not name. It was as if his skin was too small for his body. It felt too tight. He longed to burst out of it.

He felt to his knees, hitting the ground beneath him with his fists. He whimpered, stifling the scream that threatened to burst from his throat. Moments later, it was impossible to stay silent. He could not tell if he was he, or someone else who's cry could be heard. What he did know was he could not stop it, just the same as he could not stop the incredible pain that was pulsating through his body.

* * *

Back in the middle of the ball room, Zuriel and Celine glided between the couples around them, laughing all the while. Celine was sure that despite his constant smiles, she had not often see Zuriel laugh. And if she had, it was surely not like this. He seemed jubilant, though his sophisticated air never faltered.

Yet another song ended, and they both stopped to clap. Both were breathless, and from the sound of it, so were many of the couples in the room.

Though another song began, Celine was sure that no one was dancing. Zuriel had one hand around her waist, and the other was stroking a lock of her hair. She fought to calm her breathing, wondering what was the cause for the sudden stillness in the room.

Hesitantly, she looked up into his eyes. His laughter and smile had faded, and he looked very serious. He dropped the lock of her hair and reached for her chin. The action caused Celine's eyes to widen in shock. Her lips parted slightly, and she looked at him questioningly.

He pulled her by her waist so that she was even closer to him. Her chest pressed against his stomach, and she felt trapped. The feeling was somehow positive, however. She liked it, she found. He began pulling her chin towards his face, until their lips were only a hair's width apart.

No one in the room was breathing. If anyone was even there any longer… It did not matter. What did matter was that he was kissing her now. His lips were warmer than she'd expected, and the temperature burned her in the most blessed way possible.

The tenseness in her body faded into complete relaxation. She felt Zuriel grasp her more firmly by her waist, so that she would not fall. She sighed into his mouth, and the tiny sound seemed to bring the rest of the room around them back to life. Every human in the room erupted into applause. Celine felt Zuriel smile against her lips. She pressed hers back against his, completing the kiss.

Suddenly, she was giggling. Her lips still did not leave his. Zuriel lifted her so that she was pressed completely against his body, and her feet were no longer touching the floor. Finally, the kiss ended, with both of them breathless with passion and excitement.

When she opened her eyes, Celine found herself wishing she had not. The shock of the kiss combined with what she saw was enough to leave her feeling light-headed.

Every member of the castle's staff was visible. Every single one of them. They were all cheering, though if it was for happiness that the spell was over, or if it was because their master had just shared the first physical act of love with his new mistress, she was unsure.

She recognized a few of the faces immediately. Fiona was a red-headed young lady, with freckles and a mischievous smile. She was only feet away from Celine and Zuriel, and, like the rest of the people in the room, she was dressed far above her station, but in a way that suited her.

Amara was more beautiful that Celine could have imagined. She was older; at least thrice times the age of Celine, but her aged, silver hair and wrinkle suited her. She had aged gracefully, and her eyes were the liveliest in the room. Her hair was as long as Celine's, and curled delicately and prettily. She was elegant.

The man that could only be Rhys was almost as beautiful as Zuriel. His perfectly waved blond hair fell past the middle of his back. His eyes twinkled in a way that Celine was sure she liked, and he was dressed in the brightest shade of purple Celine had ever seen.

She was still in Zuriel's arms, lifted up to his height. Her feet dangled above the ground, and she wrapped her arms around him in a loving embrace.

Just when Celine was sure her happiness would never be more complete, a sound reverberated throughout the room. It took her a moment to register what it was… The castle doors, at the entrance. They had opened loudly, but why.

Zuriel did not let go of Celine, nor did he put her down. Instead he, like every other person in the room, turned to the main entrance to the ballroom, wondering what lay beyond.

A scuffling sound, loud and echoing, reached their ears. It sounded like some sort of a bear or wolf had entered the castle. But surely it was not large enough to open the doors.

The seconds passed and no one moved. Everyone stared dead ahead at the doors, waiting for them to open.

With the sound of a thud, they burst open. Everything happened very quickly then.

A creature that Celine could not name entered the ballroom at the same time. It was twice the height of anyone standing in the ballroom. It's eyes were bright yellow, and saliva dripped from its teethe, which were sharper than any dagger Celine had ever seen. It was dark brown, and it's form could only be described as half man, half wolf.

A werewolf.

Screams erupted around her. Zuriel slid Celine silently to the floor, and ordered Rhys to get her to safety.

Celine fell to the ground, fear freezing her body and mind.


	12. Battle

**Chapter 12**

Not a soul in the room was breathing. There was a gasp, as everyone in took breath as one, but anxiety over the monster stationed before them allowed no one to exhale.

The creature was up on its hind legs, which were well muscled and reached the height of Celine herself. It sniffed the air for a moment before crouching down on all fours and staring down every person in the room with a menacing glare.

"Get her out of here!" barked Zuriel. He set Celine down and thrust her gently towards Rhys, though the strength of the push caused Celine to fall to the ground. Her palms skidded across the floor, and stung painfully as she scrambled to rise back to her feet.

Zuriel stripped off his coat his haste, his eyes never leaving that of the beast before him. He growled at it, in a low, menacing voice that Celine did not recognize.

He was unbuttoning his shirt now, and it only took moments for Celine to realizing what the purpose of this action was: he was going to transform. The realization elicited a whimper from Celine. She had been sure that she accepted this side of him. So, so sure. But now, faced with the chance to see him become a creature to be feared, she felt total and complete terror- not the understanding she had hoped for.

Rhys was by her side then. He helped her stand and tried to carry her away.

"No!" she protested, and shoved him softly away. He obeyed her, much to her surprise. He, too, knew she needed to see this.

And then it began. Zuriel's face began to change first. His nose grew, before Celine's very eyes, into something of a muzzle. His eyes turned a strange, clear silver. His body was next. It began to grow in height, and his feet burst from his shoes. By the time they were visible, they were covered in white, thick fur, and resembled paws more than human feet. His ankles were elongated into that of a dog's hocks.

Everything happened too quickly for Celine's eyes to keep up with after those few, breath-taking moments.

She did not realizing her eyes were shedding tears until she felt a droplet of those said tears tickled its way down her overheated cheeks. She covered her mouth to keep from crying out in fear.

She was back on the floor now, too weak with shock to stand. She should have expected this horror, should have known it was coming. She felt disloyal and guilty for her visible fright.

Zuriel seemed to have forgotten the existence of every person in the room. He was starting towards the other werewolf. He crawled, at first, and then he was running at a pace so quick he was across the expanse of the ballroom and atop the dark-furred intruder before Celine could blink. From that point onward, she could not keep up with the fight that ensued. She blinked, and they were on the ground, Zuriel being on top with his fangs sunken into the other lycan's shoulder. Another blink and the werewolf had Zuriel pinned against the wall. Another blink. Zuriel had his claws halfway down his opponents back.

Celine was not sure how the others in the room were reacting. She heard the screams of a few children, and from the sound of it, many of the servants had left the room in search of a safer environment.

A howl sounded. She recognized the sound immediately as Zuriel's. It echoed throughout the ballroom, and drew more noise from the people around him. The howl, which had sent chills up her spine when she had not known its origins, caused her knees to buckle and her lungs to cease allowing her to intake breath.

At first Celine thought Zuriel had been hurt. Reason was almost overtaken by love and compassion, and she rose to run to him, but a pair of hands stopped her. She turned her head and saw that it was Rhys. She was about to scream at him to let her go, but his hand flew up to her mouth and covered it, preventing her from making any noise. She realized all too quickly that this was a precautionary action. Zuriel was not himself now… He could very well tear her apart.

With relief, Celine saw that the other werewolf was on the floor. The howl that had sounded was a battle cry, and not a wolf-like scream of pain. Zuriel was winning.

Crimson blood stained much of Zuriel's snow hued fur. She prayed that it was the other animal's, and not his own. Rhys slowly lowered his hand to uncover her mouth, so that she could breathe again.

A growl rose from the throat of one of the lycans, though from which one, Celine was not sure. She folded her hands together in silent prayer; her eyes open wise and aware. Tears continued to spill from her eyes, which stung with the salt from them. She ignored the little bit of pain. She had no time for it.

There was a yelp, sharp and piercing. It silenced everyone left in the room. Zuriel had the intruder by its throat, pinned against the wall. Its animalistic feet dangled in the air, and its ears were flat against its head like a dog that had just been beaten.

Zuriel dropped the lycan then. It felt to the ground with a loud, sickening thud. With that, the thing began to transform. Its size reduced by half in a matter of seconds, and the whimpering sound that were being emitted from its mouth became the cries of a man. The body shuddered until it returned to a recognizable form: Roland's.

"O my goodness, "Celine whispered tearfully. She looked from the man on the ground to the man the white lycan was transforming back into: her Zuriel. She looked from one man to the other, unsure of what to do. Her feet felt frozen in place.

She rushed forth before Zuriel was even fully himself, trusting that he would not hurt her. She heard one of the servant's shout for her to stop, but she ignored the plea.

She grabbed his face passionately and held it between her palms, examining it for any signs of blood. The fur that had covered it moments ago faded rapidly into nothing. There was a cut on his eyebrow. It trickled blood, and she wiped it away quickly with her palm.

He was breathing heavily, his stomach, which was thankfully unmarked, heaving as he gasped for breath. There was a large gash on his thigh, and she realized that he was entirely unclothed. She cared very little about this fact.

Sobs could be heard, desperate and sorrowful. It took her a moment to realize that the cries were her own. Zuriel offered a soothing shush, but it did no good.

"I am sorry, Celine" he gasped out. She shook her head, trying to tell him that it was not his fault, and finding that her voice was lost in her panic.

Finally, she turned to Roland, who lay on the ground at her feet. He was holding his side, and a scarlet pool of blood was beside him.

Despite all of this, he looked disgusted and smug.

Celine bent down and moved his hand to check the severity of his wound. To her horror, she saw that the hard, white material sticking out from the gash could be nothing but his ribs. She fought down the bile that threatened to fill her mouth.

"He is dying, Celine," said Roland suddenly. His eyes looked more cunning than sorrowful over his impending death. "You should go to him. He needs you".

With a little chuckle, Roland began to choke. Moments later, blood spurted from his mouth and spilled over his chin and the side of his lips. He drew in a large gasp of air, and then moved no more.

It took a few moments before his words sunk in.

Rhys came up behind Zuriel with a cloak fetched for him by one of the maids. He swung it over his comrade's shoulders. He knew the toll forced transformation took on Zuriel's body. Strong, immortal man or not, he would be sick for the next few days, that was certain. Zuriel muttered a quick "thank you" before gliding over to his love.

"Celine…"came Zuriel's voice from behind her. She could not guess the emotion that drove his voice forth. He was with her then, lifting her into his arms and crushing her tightly against his chest to warm her.

For his sake, Celine fought to keep herself calm. She could still feel warm tears flooding over the curves of her cheeks, but she fought them back the best she could.

"He is lying, Celine. Do not worry, "he whispered into her ear. Celine could hear the ballroom doors opening and closing as the servants began to filter back into the room.

She hoped he was right. But she could not stake her father's life on hope. She had to find out for certain. But now was not the time to think of her father.

She looked up at him. His handsome, perfect face was now bruising in a few places, including his right eye and his left cheek bone. She gasped, feeling guilty that she would even think of the father that had abandoned her when she had a lover to care for.

"Put me down, please," she said anxiously. He reluctantly did so.

He looked alright, beaten or not. He looked strong and healthy as ever. But he was exhausted. She could tell so. She asked Fiona to get her a pitcher of hot water, and Rhys and a few of Roland's guards ran to get a sofa for their leader.

Celine circled him quickly, checking his back for any signs of wounds. She pushed aside the cloak. There were four long, deep gashes, all side by side, running from his left shoulder blade down to the right side of his lower bad.

"Oh, Zuriel," she whispered sympathetically. Fiona arrived with the hot water, as well as a white cloth with which to wash and dress Zuriel's wounds.

"Leave us, all of you," said Zuriel authoritatively, once the sofa was set behind him and Celine. Only a select few of his servants had ever seen him in his lycan form. He knew how terrified they must be, and he was thankful, as always, for their loyalty. But now, Celine was what was important to him. He needed to be alone with her, to calm her and relieve her of her overwhelming fears. He would make up for this tragic night when he had the time. Now, however, he did not.

"Sit, my love, "he said quietly, taking Celine by her upper arms and trying to force the action he suggested. She refused.

"No, please, _you_ sit, Zuriel. I will fix this. I will heal you. Just relax, please!" Her voice was shrill as she fought down her rising panic. She winced, realizing how dramatic she was being, and breathed in and out deeply a few times to cease it.

"Please sit," she tried again. Zuriel nodded, not wanting to overwhelm her further, and sat on the sofa without letting his bloody back touch it. Celine went around to the back of the seat and, wetted cloth in hand, began to clean his wounds carefully. Both were silent. Zuriel found himself, for the first time since he had been bitten, in a shocked state of mind. He was not sure what to say. He wanted desperately to know what Celine was thinking. He wanted desperately to know what that damned ass _Roland_ was thinking when he had brought this upon them.

His jaw tightened as he stared at the bloody trail that led out of the ballroom doors. One of the staff must have taken the body away. He did not care what they did with it, as long as it was gone from his sight.

He was angry at the man for having done this. Angry that he had been forced to change in front of Celine. Angry that he has lost a night that would have otherwise been so perfect.

Anger turned to fear. He feared how Celine was accepting everything she had just seen now. He feared how she would accept it later. He could tell by the look of terror on her face that she had not really considered all that being a werewolf ensued.

He felt his fists clench, but after only moments under Celine's tender care, he could feel his tired body relaxing. Her delicate hands moved over his wounds, cleansing them and then dressing them. She pressed her cheek against his good shoulder so that she could easier wrap the bandages around his torso and back. He could have sworn he could feel wetness about her face, as if she had not yet stopped crying. His back felt colder in the area she had touched with her face after she lifted it, confirming his suspicions that his angel, his precious, frightened angel, was not done crying.

He relaxed yet again when he felt her warm lips plant a small, loving kiss on the place where her cheek had just been. The action, miniscule as it was, was so sweet and docile that he was unsure of how to react.

She came around to the front of the sofa now, so that she was facing him. Despite her puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks, she still looked just as angelic as when she had first entered the ballroom. Her eyes looked even prettier after they shed tears, like the darkest part of an emerald.

She took his face in her hands, like she had before when checking it for wounds. This time, though, she was searching his eyes for mental wounds, as if she feared she had somehow scared _him_ on this cursed night.

"I am _sorry_ for my fear, Zuriel. Truly," she whispered the words, because the emotion in them would not permit her to speak any louder. Her lips quivered.

Zuriel said nothing. There _was_ nothing to say. He gathered her in his arms and rocked her ever so slightly, trying to remove her pain. She was a contradictory thing through and through. She obviously felt that she had somehow handled the events that had just taken place in a childish way, just as she was, now, crying like a little girl. In fact, she was more a woman to him now than she had been before any of this. Any other female would have run after the sight Celine had been forced to endure tonight. Instead, she was apologizing as if the sin was _hers_.

She quieted after a few minutes. The echo of her gasping sobs faded until the room was, once again, silent.

"I need to see him. My father… I need to. I do not know if he is alright. I need to…." She repeated herself a few times.

Zuriel closed his eyes as he held her, mentally knocking back the frustration he felt. Tonight was painful enough without Roland's lies, and Celine's believing them. He knew Roland had lied. The man knew nothing but how to lie. His _life_ was a lie, based on the false hope that he would one day have Celine as his bride.

After so many years on this earth, Zuriel could spot the truth quicker than anyone he knew. Roland was a liar. Everything from his disgusting grin to his leery eyes had given him away moments before his death. But Celine was in too fragile a state to enter a mental war with herself over whether or not her father was well. And Zuriel could not simply send his servants to go check on her father. Celine would need to see it herself.

No doubt William was living as lavish a lifestyle as he had always dreamed of. It would be good for Celine to see how pathetically better off he fancied he was without her.

"I will take you tomorrow," he promised, his lips moving against her hair.

"No!" Celine sat upright, looking piercingly into his eyes, determined to make him see reason. "You _must_ rest for a few days. You are not well. You are exhausted. Please! I will go alone."

"Alright, alright," he said, stroke her hair until her head was back on his shoulder and she seemed calm. Never had he seen a woman so fiercely protective over her loved ones before- him included. A day of rest was all he needed. His body would recover faster than Celine imagined.

"I will be accompanying you though Celine. You are going to have to trust me. I will be fit enough for travel."

Celine shook her head into his shoulder for a few moments before giving up and giving in. He was right, as usual, she was sure of it.

* * *

Having been used to not seeing anyone but Zuriel in the castle for so long, Celine found that she was prone to scream whenever a servant turned the corner. She kept herself silent, fearing that Zuriel may have a headache, as she accompanied him and Rhys to Zuriel's bedchambers.

No one asked if Zuriel was alright. They knew that as long as the man was not dead, he would heal in due time. They also knew that Celine would need privacy with him, so, after Rhys had Zuriel safely in bed, he left the couple so that they would be undisturbed.

Celine crawled into Zuriel's bed next to him. The general rules of engagement between men and women were below her now. She hardly cared if it was improper to be in a man's bedchambers unaccompanied, let alone in his bed unless they were bound in wedlock.

She was careful as she rolled softly over so that she was close enough to touch him. She was not sure where he was hurting and where he was not. She placed her warm hands gingerly on his chest, and pressed the length of her body against him, as to keep him warm. Zuriel, unbeknown to her, smiled up at the ceiling at the action. He was hardly even cold, and within the hour, he would be warmer than she was. That was how his kind operated. Nonetheless, he let her do what she pleased.

She stroked his chest in a careful sort of way, afraid that she was both crossing un-crossable boundaries, and possibly hurting him.

They fell asleep in that position, resting assured that, should any other disturbances happen, the servants guarding his bedchamber door would see to them.


	13. Another Spell Broken

A/N- I have been getting very little sleep and playing alot of games with my fiance, so inspiration has been in short supply. Nonetheless....

**Chapter 13**

It was the sun that awoke Celine the following morning. Its rays streamed through Zuriel's slim, medieval window. It lit his canopy aglow, and cast the room in pale light. It also stung her eyes before she even had the chance to open them. She squinted against the pain, remembering how long she had cried last night. She had earned this pain, slight as it may be.

Pain… She sat up with a start, remembering the specific events that took place the night before. She leaned over to check on Zuriel. He was asleep, unlike last time they had spent the night together. Biting her lip in anticipation, she leaned over, slowly as possible, and lightly brushed a strand of hair from his eyes. Opposite of what she had been hoping for, he awoke at the feeling of her touch. She bit down on her bottom lip even harder.

"I am sorry," she whispered, feeling truly guilty for having woken him.

Zuriel shook his head and made a tsking sound, to show that there was no need for forgiveness when no sin had been committed.

"Let me change your bandages." If she could not make up for awakening him from much needed sleep, she would at least do her best to hasten his healing process.

Zuriel smirked at her, as if he knew something she did not. He sat up smoothly enough, and looked perfectly free of pain. Thinking that this was more of a show of bravery than anything, Celine began to unwrap the blood stained cloth from his torso. Seeing so much blood there, she expected the worst. She was surprised to find perfectly smooth, healed skin beneathe the stained mass of cloth.

Her gasp alerted him that he was indeed well again. He shook his head good-heartedly. "The curse is not _all_ bad, I suppose," he informed her. She raised an eyebrow at him, skeptical, but did not raise the subject further.

"We will travel today." Zuriel's words were a statement, not a question. If they were going to have to visit the man that Zuriel loathed most of all, they may as well get it over with quickly as possible.

Celine nodded in agreement. She would have begun crying again, then, out of worry for her father, but something in Zuriel's sure sounding tone told her everything would be alright. She gave him the smallest of kisses on his cheek. Zuriel clenched his fists as he had done last night, only this time it was in self restraint against something happy, and not sad. He wanted to grab her and return the affection, but she had been raised that such things were improper, and she had been through enough emotional trauma for one week.

There was a loud, intrusive knock on the door. Celine, eyes wide, slipped from the bed and went to answer it. Fiona stood so close to the other side of the door that Celine would not have been surprised if the girl had been pressing her ear against it seconds ago.

Her hair was an even brighter shade of red than Celine had first thought last night. Her upturned nose and tight lips made her look even younger than Celine knew her to be.

There was a pale pink dress in her arms.

"Shall I dress you here or in your own room?" she asked with a grin. Celine winced all too visibly. Fiona would have this spread all over the castle. She would no doubt be saying that Celine and Zuriel had done more than simply sleep in the same bed, thinking it a marvelous secret instead of a shameful lie.

Celine sighed. "My room, thank you, Fiona."

---------------------------------

Zuriel stood, straight and healthy, in the clearing directly outside the castle's entrance. To Celine, last night seemed a strange sort of dream, given how well and quickly he had healed. A male servant that Celine had not run across yet (or so she assumed. It was hard to tell given the recently broken spell) held the reins of two handsome looking horses. One was a pale, golden color. The other, black, and so large Celine was sure she would not be able to mount it without help from Zuriel. Luckily, this was apparently his horse, so she mounted the smaller one with ease.

They took nothing with them but a coin purse, planning to buy whatever they needed while in town, if it was necessary that they stay and look after William.

Zuriel nudged his horse closer to Celine and reached over, cupping her chin, and kissed her cheek. She blushed and smiled softly, happy for a temporary distraction to the stress she was experiencing. She wished she knew if her father's condition was as severe as Roland said.

The journey was not as long as Celine expected it would be, though they had set off just after dawn, and the sun was now high in the sky. She suspected this was because of Zuriel's company. He was a distracting man, in all the best ways.

Rhys had told them where Celine's father was now living. Celine felt sad, in a way, that he had moved. She missed the old cottage, dark and cold as it had been. It had always smelled of wild flowers, and the air was fresher there than here in the city, where Rhys had said Father now resided.

His new home, which seemed tiny in comparison to the luxurious castle that Celine had grown so accustomed to, was on the outskirts of the city. Still, it was much grander than Celine had expected, and she looked up at Zuriel as they dismounted their horses, shocked. It was gray, and perfectly symmetrical, and Celine found it less interesting to look at, architecturally, than her home with Zuriel. Columns supported the triangular roof, and the front garden was almost completely lacking in flowers. Instead, bushes, shaped in perfect squares and rectangles, lined the winding pathway to the front entrance.

"I do not think this is the right place, Zuriel," she told him gently. She did not want to hurt his pride by leading him to think she did not trust his sense of direction, but there was no way Father's luck could have provided him such a vast fortune, and so quickly, to enable him to afford such a home.

"It is," was all he said in reply. Celine frowned in confusion but did not question Zuriel's word further.

The manor did not suit Father, somehow, and Celine found it hard to imagine him living here. That was not to say that she did not think he deserved such a fine home, but she felt that a country manor would have suited him.

No matter. He was not her business anymore, save for his health, which she dearly cared about. Even Zuriel's long stride could not match Celine's quick pace as she raced past him and up the front steps of the manor.

She knocked twice on the door, and when no reply came, she knocked again, louder this time. Her knuckles became sore immediately. She was sure the sound could not penetrate through the thick oak of the door. Zuriel, having reached Celine's side by now, grasped her waist gently, smirking at her, and rapped three times on the door. The sound echoed through the gardens, and Celine smiled up at him, feeling protected somehow with him by her side. She ran her fingers over the hand that was touching her waist, admiring how warm it was. She leaned into him while they waited for the door to be answered.

When no answer came, Zuriel raised an eyebrow and opened the door himself. Celine's eyes widened. She was still not sure if this was her father's house to begin with. And if it was, it would hardly be courteous to enter it without permission, let alone if, God forbid, this was someone else's home.

He smiled at her reassuringly and pulled her, by her hand, inside.

"… and she never answers the damned door, I tell you! I want her fired!"

"You do it, Amelie. I would rather not. It is hardly in my nature to mingle with the servants."

Celine's sister's voices sounded down a hall that must have been off of one of the two staircases that led to the second floor of the home. Moments later, both girls immerged from the hall to the left, looking more annoyed with each other than they had once been with Celine.

"Oh, because you are _so _superior?! Hmmm? I think not!"

Celine sighed. This was certainly her father's home; there was no doubt about that now.

Celine turned to Zuriel, looking anxious. "I am sorry I thought you were wrong," she whispered to him.

"I am sorry I was _right_," he replied. Celine observed his face curiously. She could have sworn his right eye twitched ever so slightly. She giggled.

The sound alerted her sisters, who paused their bickering to investigate the intruders.

Both girls gasped in unison, as if they had uncovered a very juicy piece of gossip.

"Celine?!" Agnes was the first to speak. She raced forth, looking as if she was experiencing a mix of emotions.

"My God, sister, where the hell have you been?" asked Amelie. Though her words were demanding, she, at least, looked slightly happy to see her.

"Where is Father?" asked Celine, ignoring them and cutting straight to her purpose in being here. She felt no happiness in seeing her sisters again. She wondered if that made her selfish…

"Ah… in the study, I think, why?" Agnes answered her question with a very perplexed facial expression. She looked rightfully confused at Celine's worry.

"Why is he not lying down?" exclaimed Celine, gently as possible.

"He is right this way, milady," came the voice of a female servant. She looked fairly amused at the sight before her. Her two despicable mistresses and the girl that could only be the long lost sister they had been going on about. Thing were about to get very interesting around here, if she guessed right.

Amelie was the first to truly take in Zuriel. "And who are _you_" she asked. She looked annoyed that her home was not only being invaded by Celine, but a man as well. After looking him over, her countenance changed. "I am Amelie," she said suddenly, rushing forward and dipping into a curtsy.

Celine had to fight not to roll her eyes. She followed the servant, hoping the sight of their sick father would sober up her two sisters.

The study was not far off. It just down the hall. Compared to the stark white tiles that made up the rest of the flooring in the manor, the soft blue carpet of the study was warm and soothing. The study was small, and seemed to double as a library. It could hardly be called a library, however, compared to Zuriel's vast, double storied book collection.

Father was in the middle of the room, perched on a chair behind a dark desk. A chicken leg was in one hand, and a wine goblet in the other. Despite how wrapped up he seemed to be in his meal, he looked up right away when his favorite daughter entered the room.

He stared at her for a moment, wondering if his eyes were playing tricks on him again. Surely his wife had not come back to him.

No, no, this was someone else…

"Celine!" he said finally, popping up from his chair and lumbering over to his daughter. Celine's mouth was half open. If he was a sick man, he was hiding it very, very well.

"You have returned to me at last! I have been so worried. Been searching, everywhere, I have. Everywhere!" He seemed cheerful enough, but somehow his mood and obvious health did not ease Celine. She felt disappointed in him somehow, and found it hard to believe his words.

"Really?" she whispered after a moment, but his babble drowned out her voice.

Zuriel stepped into the room then, and immediately the old man stopped speaking.

"Y-y-you! I know you!" he said fearfully, looking even more flabbergasted than when Celine had entered the room. Then his mood changed.

"How dare you enter my home? Out, out, get out! I do not want you here, do you understand me? I said-"

"I daresay, sir, that is hardly a way to treat a guest, when I was so previously hospitable to you" Zuriel was in his usual calm stance, with his legs slightly spread apart and his hands behind his back. He leaned against the wall next to Celine.

Agnes and Amelie appeared then, piling into the study eagerly.

"He is lying, you know, Celine" began Agnes. She looked very proud of herself, though why, Celine did not know.

"Who is lying?" asked Celine, thinking her sister was speaking of Zuriel.

"Father. He hardly searched for you at all. He has been too busy spending his riches and attending parties" piped in Amelie. She looked equally as excited as her sister. If this would not send Celine back to wherever miserable place she had been living at, she did not know what would. Life here was better without Celine hogging Father's attention. It was best if she left, to be sure.

Celine looked up at her father with inquiring eyes. "Is this true?" she asked quietly.

Father looked surprised that he had been betrayed by his own daughters. He shook his head before he spoke. "No, of course not! I would do anything to have you back, my Celine, I swear it!"

"Really?" Zuriel's voice penetrated through the thick lies in the room. Celine took comfort in it, and scooted closer to her protector. "Then, I have a proposition for you, _William_".

Father looked up at Zuriel defiantly. "Whatever it is, I accept!" he said pridefully.

Zuriel ignored him. "If you give back the riches I bestowed upon you, I will return your daughter to you"

Celine gasped, shocked both by the fact that it was Zuriel who had provided this new lavish lifestyle to her father, and by his proposal. Zuriel slipped his hand into Celine's, so that no one could see, to show her that he meant her no harm through his words. Celine's fingers tightened around his, though she felt rejected by what he had just said.

Father was frozen. He looked to be in a stupor. This upset Celine. Most any other father would have immediately accepted. But hers… he hesitated, and for far too long.

"But I…" he seemed to searching his innermost thoughts for some sort of solution. "I have my other daughters to think of!" he finally exclaimed. Celine looked over to her sisters who looked quite a bit more smug than necessary.

"Yes, sister, he has us to think of," said Agnes quietly. She was not soft spoken often, but Celine found that she preferred her to be loud-mouthed and nosy as opposed to this. She was positively icy.

Zuriel was silent this whole time. If there was anything he had learned through his sweet Celine, it was that he could not try to control her. This was her decision to make. He was frustrated that he saw her even hesitating to leave this place, but still, he said not a word.

Celine looked shaken. Then, slowly, her countenance changed. She breathed deeply a few times, and her eyes flashed with something Zuriel had to fight to recognize. It was confidence. She turned on her heal and walked from the room without so much as glancing back.

Her hands were balled into fists, and her arms were locked stubbornly at her sides. Other than that, she showed no sign of regret, sadness, anger, nothing.

She was taking all of this much better than he could have expected. And God knows, he would rather have his angel angry than have her sad.

"You can never be rid of me now," she said to him matter-of-factly. She smiled slightly as she said it. Zuriel, despite himself, smiled too. He nodded in response.

"I suppose that would be a good thing," he teased as they reached the front door. He realized she was not feeling as strong as she looked, because his light-hearted comment caused her tiny smile to falter. She was hurting; she just would not say it aloud.

As they approached their horses, she grabbed her by the shoulders and turned her to him.

"That is a _very_ good thing," he corrected himself. Finally, Celine's smile widened. Satisfied, Zuriel swung her onto her mount.


	14. A Little Silver

**Chapter 14**

Looking around the entrance hall of the castle, Celine frowned. It was not out of frustration that she made such a facial expression, but rather because she was trying to acclimate herself to her surroundings. Everything looked different now, knowing this was officially her home.

Brave face or not, the hurt that Celine felt swirling around in her heart blackened it painfully. Not even from her sisters had she expected such an outrageous act. But from her own father? To him, she truly was nothing but a pretty possession.

If this had happened any earlier than now, Celine feared she would long to return to her father, to beg him to take her back. But not now, when she found her strength laid in Zuriel. Still, she wished there could have been a less deleterious way to have done this.

Adjustment was a fairly easy thing for Celine, but she had been forced to adjust so _many_ things during the past few fortnights, she was unsure if she could keep up with it all anymore.

And then… Zuriel, blessed Zuriel, turned around. He was only steps ahead of her, making his way towards the grand staircase so that they may go to the drawing room and spend a bit of well-earned time together.

He could not read minds, and Celine was often a confusing creature, but somehow he knew what to do to comfort her in that moment. Flashing her a mischievious grin, as if he had just won the highest of prizes, he held out his hands to her and beckoned her to his side. Shaking her head at his ever bold ways, Celine joined him, a smile playing on her lips and erasing all distraught emotions from her delicate features.

………….

The rest of the day passed uneventfully. The couple dined together, relieved to be home even after so short an absence. The castle truly was its own village. Being parted from it was difficult, thanks to its unique beauty and charm.

After a few hours of silent mourning over the loss of her family, Celine was able to appreciate the changes that had taken place over the past two days. Seeing the servants, no - friends, that she had come to know and love was the greatest luxery she could have asked for. Amara's beauty was one that shoen from the inside out, and Celine found it even more conforting to be in her presence now that she could see her kind, understanding eyes.

It was Amara that was serving them their meal tonight. She bragged, with a wink, about some of the cakes she had made. The colorful desserts littered the table like a rose garden, their tinted frostings shimmering in the candlelight.

The meal helped Celine to forget about the day's events. Her mind was beginning to clear and it was now easier for her to see that all that had taken place was a good thing.

Zuriel had been careful with Celine since they had returned to the castle. He had always been hesitant to touch her in any way, but after all that they had been through together as of late, a simple kiss seemed innocent enough. Still, Zuriel knew how fragile her emotions were, and he did not want to confuse them further by provoking physical contact when she may not want it.

Now, however, with them both having eaten their fill, and with the castle quiet and peaceful, he decided Celine was stable enough to receive a hint of the physical manifestation of his love. He rose from his seat across from her, happy that the servants had retired away from them for the night and they were now alone.

He kneeled down beside her and reached over to stroke her hair. She smiled sweetly, and leaned her cheek into his palm. He was gentle with her. He twisted a few of her curls around his index finger, smiling at how soft they were against his skin. He began to lean forward slowly then, intent on claiming her lips for the second time since the ball.

Celine's breathing deepened, and she closed her eyes as a sort of permission for him to do what he wanted to do. His lips came within a breath away from hers, when a noise sounded from the first floor.

Celine jumped and gasped, and Zuriel frowned, knowing immediately that something was not right.

A scream met their ears. It sounded like one of the female staff.

"Get away!" A male this time. Zuriel recognized him to be one of his knights. He cursed under his breath, knowing whatever was happening, it was dooming, if it was out of the hands of his tiny army.

"Stay here, my love," he said softly, quickly, and with that, he was gone, leaving Celine shocked in her chair. Her hands were gripping the bottom of her seat, and her knuckles had turned white. What was going on?

Hesitating only a moment, she rose, disobeying Zuriel's orders but hardly giving it a second thought.

He was already halfway down the hall before she managed to catch up to him. She followed him quickly down the grand staircase, to the source of the commotion.

At least twenty servants, including some of Zuriel's knights, formed a wall between Zuriel and the main entrance. And directly in front of that entrance stood Lord Colne,Roland's father, as well at least thirty hired soldiers, bearing the crest of the King.

"Step aside, damn you!" shouted Colne. "You have no right to disobey my orders!" His words were loud, and boomed throughout the hall. But his face was calm, his expression carefully calculated. His blue eyes peirced through Celine's with a glare.

"Ah! There you are, Celine," he said to her.

Everyone was stilling now. They all turned to look from Colne to Celine, realization dawning on them all that the man could be here to take Celine back.

"You will not touch her," said Rhys, who stood just feet from Zuriel and Celine.

"I can do whatever the hell I please. However, it is not for her that I am here today" He smirked devilishly, looking around the room as a dramatic pause ensued.

"What, then, are you here for, Lord Colne?" asked Zuriel after a moment. His facial expression was blank, and somehow this made him seem more dangerous than Lord Colne. Celine scooted closer to his side, trusting in his protection over her and his castle.

Colne smiled for a moment, his toothy grin far from boyish. "You."

Celine's eyes widened and she threw herself instinctively in front of her lover. She said nothing, but her heaving chest and her wide, glassy eyes said everything her lips could not. She was frightened.

She straightened her back and pressed herself against Zuriel, determined to save him somehow. She waited for him to command his soldiers to defeat Colne's. She waited for him to defeat Colne himself. She waited for him to transform into the beautiful beast she knew lay in wait inside of him.

He did nothing. Instead she saw his eyelid twitch ever so slightly as she stared up at him anxiously. A "click" was heard from behind them both, and Celine whireled around to see what it was.

Zuriel's wrists were bound in iron shackles. Somehow one of Colne's men had managed to sneak around during their brief verbal exchange and capture Zuriel.

At first, Celine was calm. He could break free from those, she though. Then, it dawned on her that if he transformed now, the bones of his wrists would be crushed in the process before the iron could be broken.

"Oh no" she whispered so softly no one could hear.

The chaos errupted then. Zuriel's men tried to use the moment to defeat Colne's. Within seconds, swords drawn and all, they had Colne and his soldier's back up against the enteryway door. Their decades of expertise were no match for the mere soldier's of Avilbane. However, the man that held fast to Zuriel's bindings had him back up against the door along with the rest of Colne's men before anyone could notice it.

Celine cried out, fear seeping in to her very bones.

"Why are you doing this?! Let him go!" she screamed, causing some of the fighting and shuffling to cease. She took a few steps forward, but not before Colne could yank a knife from somewhere within his cape and point it at Zuriel's neck. He grabbed Zuriel and pulled him tight against his chest, forcing Zuriel's head back with the knife.

No matter how quickly Zuriel's wolven heritage could help him recover, if his neck were sliced, he would die before he could even begin to heal.

"Because he killed my son." There was no remorse in Colne's words. No hint of mourning. Only a vengeful tone that chilld the air in the room.

Celine swallowed, silent and guilty. She had nothing to say in return to his comment, because it was true.

Tear-filled eyes searched the belts of the soldier's for a key to Zuriel's shackles. Her heart sunk lower when she found none.

She turned to Rhys, who's face was red with anger. His swoard was pointed at the neck of one of Colne's men, but because any move he might make in offense would risk Zuriel's safety, he and his comrades were quiet and motionless.

One of the younger of Zuriel's men made a move to play the hero. With a loud battlecry, he swung his sword above his head and slashed at one of his opponents. Everyone else was still during the scene, save for Colne, who, with a sneer, plunged the silver knife at Zuriel's neck into his side.

No one noticed at first, save for Celine, who's eyes only briefly left Zuriel's. She screams and fell to her knees, woe overtaking her strength. She dared not breathe, for fear that any sort of movement on her part might cause another upset.

She knew little of werewolves besides what knowledge Zuriel had thus far bestowed upon her. But, lover of fairy tales, she had learned one

With a wry half-smile, Colne turned to leave. His men swung open the doors, and the ominous creaking sound they made echoed throughout the hall and in Celine's ears in as sinister a fashion as the crack of a whip. Celine's mouth opened and closed as she fought to choke out something, anything, to save her lover. Zuriel looked at her bravely, knowing full well what she did: he could not transform, and this spelled out his doom.

Lord Colne eyed Celine through the fading crack between the doors as they shut. Her arms were wrapped around her stomach, and it was all she could do to hold in her sobs until he was gone.

He felt no pity for the girl. She had chosen her own pained fate the moment she decided she was too good for his son. Her mother was a whore and Celine would never be any better, and if it took her deepest sorrows to put Colne's mind to rest, so be it.


End file.
